Savannah, Do You Ever Think of Me?
by quiet-heart
Summary: Horatio recieves an unexpected visitor, a visitor with a painful past. As much as he wants to help her, can he help her overcome her past and start anew, especially when a killer starts gunning for her? Final ready and waiting for review.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: I'm still working on CSI: NY but this story also crossed my mind and I decided to try and get it out before it drove me crazy. I do not tolerate or advocate abuse in any form, but having been a victim of it, I can understand where the victims are coming from. R&R if you like please and thank you. Also, the story title is also an old Vince Gill song. If you haven't figured it out by now, I like Vince Gill's music._

_Disclaimer: I do not own, nor do I wish to own, any of the characters of CSI: Miami, except those created by me._

**Savannah, Do You Ever Think Of Me?**

Jane was working at the Reception desk when a young woman with short, pale blonde hair, dressed in street clothes and carrying a large duffle bag approached the desk.

"Excuse me?" the young woman asked hesitantly.

"Can I help you?" Jane asked, placing the girl in her mid to late teens.

The girl held out a well-folded newspaper clipping showing a very familiar red-haired Lieutenant Caine. "Does Lieutenant Caine work here?" the girl asked.

Jane noticed the girl seemed to have a heavy southern accent. "May I ask who's asking please?" she asked cautiously.

"H-hannah Peterson," the girl said, stammering nervously.

"Okay, Hannah, how about if I let him know you're here? Would you mind waiting?" Jane asked.

"No, not at all. Thank you, ma'am," Hannah said, tucking the news article back in her bag.

Jane quickly made the call and the Lieutenant promised her he'd be right there. Then Jane turned back to the visitor. "Whereabouts are you from, just out of curiosity?" she asked, trying to be friendly.

"I'm from Ladonia, Alabama, ma'am," Hannah admitted. "It's just outside of Phoenix City."

"Wow, you're a long way from home," Jane said.

"It's my first time in Miami and it's _nothing _like Alabama. You guys got oceans you can see for miles!" Hannah enthused.

Jane smiled. If it weren't for the fact that she was a bit wary of Hannah for Horatio's sake, she would really like the girl. "How long have you been in Miami?"

"Got in a couple of hours ago. It took me that long to get from the airport to here, never mind finding this place," Hannah admitted.

"Miami can be a bit confusing at first," Jane admitted.

"I know, but if it's one thing I'm really good at doing, it's figuring out maps, and, well, if you ask an officer nicely, they're usually quite happy to tell you where their crime lab is," Hannah said cheerfully.

"There is that," Jane admitted, grinning.

Just then, Horatio walked into the reception area and Jane watched as Hannah suddenly froze. Jane thought the girl looked absolutely terrified and was fighting with herself not to show it. What the heck was going on here?

"Sir, this is Hannah Peterson from Ladonia, Alabama," Jane said, quickly doing introductions.

"A pleasure to meet you, Hannah. I'm Lieutenant Horatio Caine, how can I help you?" Horatio asked.

"Um, I-I don't mean to be rude or anything, but-" Hannah gulped nervously "Is-is there a place where I could get some water? I'm, I'm not really used to Miami's humidity yet."

"Certainly, Hannah. This way," Horatio said, gesturing down the hall. He nodded towards Jane and was about to put his hand on Hannah's back when he saw her flinch at the raised hand. He wisely lowered it.

In the break room, Horatio poured Hannah a glass of cold water, which she drank gratefully. While the water was needed, it was also a stalling tactic as she tried to figure out how to introduce herself properly.

"Umm, I'm sorry, sir, about lying, but my-my real name is Savannah Abbot, not Hannah Peterson. We've-we've met before. Matter of fact, sir, we've been chatting on-line for about six months now. You know me as bamacountrygurl," she finally admitted.

Horatio leaned back against the wall thoughtfully, his mind quickly speeding up. "I remember you. As I recall, I never told you my name so how did you find me?" he asked.

"You mentioned you had red hair and that you worked for the Miami-Dale PD. I found an article in a national newspaper a couple months ago about a Lieutenant Caine of the MDPD. They had your picture in it and I quickly figured out that there really weren't that many red-haired officers for the MDPD, especially when you mentioned you had a science degree," Savannah admitted. "That suggested that you were part of the crime lab which narrowed things down quite a bit." She handed him the newspaper article and he glanced over it, momentarily glaring at the photograph of himself.

Horatio had to admit, after seeing the news article, that Savannah was very bright. But what possessed her to fly all the way from Alabama to Miami, just to meet someone she'd only been chatting with on-line? He asked her that.

"Well, umm, I, I-uh, wanted to get away from home, start over somewhere else, y'know? I'm, I'm a really good waitress and I'm, uh, sure I can get another job somewhere here," Savannah stammered, her face going red. Horatio just looked at her and quietly raised one eyebrow. "Look, I'm really, really sorry about imposing on you, but I just don't want to go home!" she burst out, nearly in tears.

"And why not?" he asked gently.

"What kind of home is it when your boyfriend uses you for a punching bag, just like your daddy does and nobody gives a damn!" Savannah shot back.

"Good point," he admitted.

"Can, can I, sh-show you something?" she asked tentatively.

"Of course," he said, placing his hands on his hip and, coincidently, near his gun.

Savannah, who had already set her bag down, turned around and, after taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, carefully lifted her shirt to her breasts. She knew what he would see; man-made bruising all along her back and reaching around to her front. She froze when she heard a snapping sound, and then she felt Horatio's hands on her back, but they were gentle and carefully examining her bruises. After a moment, those same hands gently raised her shirt higher to reveal the rest of the bruising. A tear slid down her face. She was so tired. It had been a very long flight from Phoenix City to Miami, not to mention the bus trip from Ladonia. And that last fight with her father had been a nasty one. Plus, she'd also fought with her boyfriend the night before. All in all, she just wanted to sleep for a few hours before she had to do anything else. She sincerely hoped Horatio could suggest a place to sleep that was relatively cheap as she still had some money left but not a whole lot. She would have to find a job soon.

After checking over her bruises, Horatio was concerned. He knew she was being abused; both the bruises and her mannerisms in Reception had clearly proven that. She was right, they had been chatting back and forth on-line and via e-mail for some time and he enjoyed doing so; the chat was clean and often funny; a form of stress-relief for him. And now that she was here, he had to admit she was a pretty young woman. However, she was a young woman who had escaped, if he was hearing things right, two abusive men. He had to admit, Savannah was a survivor. Somehow she'd come up with the money for a plane ticket from Phoenix City all the way to Miami just to meet someone she'd only spoken to on-line. However, Horatio knew abused women often grasped at straws in their desperation to survive. He had been, unintentionally, a ray of hope, a means of escape for Savannah. And now that she was here, well, the only logical thing to do was to try and help her get back on her feet. He only hoped his kindness didn't come around and bite him in the ass one day.

"You look exhausted," he said, gently tugging her shirt down. She turned around to face him, wrapping her arms around herself.

"Long flight and bus ride combined," she admitted.

"Do you have a place to stay?" he asked.

"No sir. I was hopping you could recommend a place that was cheap," she said.

"Well, I have a spare bedroom at my place. You are welcome to that for now until you can find a job and a place of your own," he offered. "However, my day is not yet done, so I offer you the use of the couch in my office for now."

"I-I don't want to impose on you, sir," she stammered out.

Horatio smiled warmly. "You're not imposing on me. Besides, my ballistics expert would have my head if I didn't at least offer," he admitted. "And please, call me Horatio. 'Sir' makes me feel like I'm dealing with other officers and you're not an officer."

"Why would your ballistics expert have your head, s-Horatio?" she asked, curious.

"Because she's a southern girl, just like you," he replied, grinning.

Savannah smiled back, still a bit nervous, as she considered her options. Okay, having a nap in his office wouldn't be so bad because it was in a public place. But after that, she'd just have to be very, very careful. Just because he seemed nice now, well, that could change once they were alone. Andrew, her boyfriend, had proven that to her repeatedly. "Okay, if you don't mind, then I would like to take you up on your offer for the couch, at least for a few hours," she said tentatively.

"This way," he said, gesturing towards the door. "Oh, and Savannah?" She looked at him, curious. "Welcome to Miami." She smiled and in that smile, Horatio thought he saw a promise of hope.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: thanks to all those who reviewed Chapter 1; greatly appreciated! Sorry Chapter 2 has been a while in the making but that's what happens when I'm trying to work on two stories at once (see CSI: NY Whispers of the Heart). Also, I had to try and figure out precisely where I was going to go with this story; that was not fun._

_Disclaimer: I do not own, nor do I wish to own, any of the characters of CSI: Miami. I just play with 'em once in a while._

**Chapter 2**

Horatio's couch was a lot more comfortable than it had originally looked and Savannah quickly dozed off. She woke up only when Horatio gently nudged her awake.

"Good evening," he said, smiling warmly. He was crouched next to the couch and had removed his jacket.

"It's evening already?" she asked, glancing at her watch, which confirmed the time.

"Yes, it is. You slept pretty soundly." Savannah nodded, mentally re-grouping herself. "Do you feel up to doing something for me?" he asked.

"Depends," she replied warily as she sat up and ran her fingers through her short hair. At one point, roughly forty-eight hours ago actually, she'd had breast-length strawberry blonde hair but as part of her plan to hide from her father and boyfriend, a girlfriend of hers had taken a pair of scissors and the palest blonde hair dye they could find and had helped her radically change her hair style. She still wasn't used to the shortness of her hair.

"I would like my medical examiner, Dr. Alexx Woods, to check you over. She is a super nice lady and I would feel a lot better if she had a look at you," Horatio said.

A female doctor? That was okay, Savannah thought. Maybe she could also recommend a good gynecologist; she was on birth control medication and wanted to keep it that way. Savannah nodded in agreement to Horatio's suggestion.

"Also, if you will consent to it, I would like to have some photographs taken of your injuries for documentary purposes," Horatio said.

"I don't understand," she said hesitantly.

"The photos will be kept strictly confidential but they are for the purpose of should you decide to press charges of assault against either your father or your boyfriend," Horatio calmly explained. While Savannah had been sleeping, he had spoken to the precinct psychiatrist about what to expect from a victim of abuse and what he could do to help. The good doctor had made a couple of suggestions, including documenting Savannah's injuries. She had also suggested counseling and taking a self-defense class to help build self-confidence. She had also warned Horatio that it was going to take time on Savannah's part to heal, especially if the abuse has been long-term. Things would get easier for her but the scars would never totally go away.

Horatio's suggestion made sense to her, although the chances of her ever charging either Papa or Andrew were pretty much non-existent but if it made him happy, then she'd do it.

"If it would make you feel more comfortable, I can have one of my female CSI's take the photos," he offered. She nodded; it would help. "Good. You can leave your bag in my office and when we're done, we'll retrieve it and head for home. We'll also make sure you get something to eat. How does that sound?"

Savannah nodded in agreement again. She really was hungry; her last meal had been some kind of Cuban meal a vendor had been selling. It had been a bit spicy but had tasted as good as it smelled, which is why she had tried it in the first place.

She followed Horatio through the labs, her eyes wide with curiosity. After a moment he noticed this and smiled in amusement.

"I take it you've never been inside a crime lab before?" he asked.

"No, sir. I've visited the sheriff's office on a couple of occasions to get Papa out of jail after being arrested for drunken behavior at the local pub, but this place is _fancy _compared to that," Savannah admitted.

"Well, we do have a very good lab, one of the best in the state," he said proudly. "See how things go and, if you're interested, I'll arrange for a tour for you. How does that sound?"

"Only if you're sure I won't get in the way; I don't want to be a bother," she said hesitantly.

"You're not a bother, Savannah, I promise," he reassured gently.

She nodded. They were approaching the elevators when an unfamiliar man in a tan suit with brown hair joined them. He eyed Savannah suspiciously, making her uncomfortable. She instinctively moved closer to Horatio as he pressed the call button for the elevator.

"Taking to robbing cradles now, Horatio?" the newcomer snarked. "Isn't she a bit young for you?"

Savannah's eyebrows shot up at that comment but Horatio just smiled politely. "No, Rick, this is Savannah, a friend who hails from Alabama. She just got in to town this morning and will be staying with me for a few days until she gets back on her feet," he replied easily.

Rick just snorted in disbelief. "You sure make friends in the oddest places," he said.

"Well now, you are one ornery critter, ain't 'cha, mister," Savannah quipped without thinking. Rick glared at her but at Horatio's small smile, she pushed on. "Luckily for me, I know how to deal with critters like you."

"By being nice?" Rick asked.

Just then, the elevator doors opened and Savannah and Horatio stepped inside the car. Horatio punched a button, just as she replied, "Nope, never works. A rifle and a load ah' buckshot up the backside works better!"

The doors closed but not before Savannah spotted a lab technician choking on a cup of coffee as she heard Horatio chuckle.

Alexx Woods turned out to be a pretty black woman in surgical scrubs who instantly began fussing over Savannah. She gently booted Horatio from the morgue and had Savannah remove her shirt. "Oh, you poor baby," the doctor clucked, carefully examining Savannah.

There was a knock on the doors and a woman with long blonde hair stuck her head in.

"Oh, hi Calleigh," Alexx said, recognizing the woman, who smiled and came in, bearing a camera.

"Hi, you must be Savannah," Calleigh said, offering her hand, which Savannah shook. "I'm Calleigh Duquesne, CSI. Nice to meet you."

"Likewise," Savannah replied, noting the woman also had a Southern accent but she couldn't quite place it. The accent wasn't quite as heavy as hers.

Calleigh quickly explained what she was going to do; she was going to take a series of photos of Savannah. One set would show the bruises that were visible under normal lighting, the second set would show the bruises that were only visible under a UV filter. Calleigh was quick and efficient, making the whole process that much more easier. After she was done, Savannah put her shirt back on and Horatio was called back in.

"I would recommend the usual treatment for such bruises," Alexx said, "which is basically going easy on yourself and allowing your body time to heal."

Both Savannah and Horatio nodded. "How did you get the lash on your back, Savannah?" he asked.

Savannah shrugged. "Andrew, my ex-boyfriend, is a bit, well, a lot, possessive of me. He thought I was making eyes at a guy in the restaurant where I used to work and I didn't duck his belt fast enough," she replied. "I would've had more if my boss hadn't stepped in and threatened to have Andrew arrested."

"Why wasn't Andrew arrested?" Calleigh asked.

"'Cause I left for Phoenix City that night, and arresting him would've only made him madder, mad enough to come after me," Savannah replied. "I didn't want the hassle of filing a report and all that; I just wanted to go and not look behind."

"How does your mother feel about all this?" Alexx asked.

Savannah smiled sadly. "I don't know, ma'am; Mama hasn't said a word in four years. She's been staying at a mental institution in Phoenix City and when I visited her, just before I left to catch my plane, she still hadn't said a work. Doctors seriously doubt she ever will."

"Oh sugar," Alexx said sympathetically.

"She may not be sayin' much, but I know she's being looked after. Her brother, my Uncle Todd, is well-off and he made sure she was getting the best medical care possible," Savannah explained. "So I don't feel so bad about leaving. Besides, I think Mama would've understood. After all, it was Papa's cruelty to her that snapped her mind. I'm just gonna try and start over."

"That's commendable," Calleigh said, smiling. Savannah smiled back.

"Shall we see about getting us something to eat?" Horatio suggested gently.

Everyone nodded and Savannah bid Calleigh and Alexx good night. Then she followed Horatio back the way they had come. After retrieving her bag, Horatio took her to a nice little restaurant where he encouraged her to eat as much as possible. While they ate, they discussed the future.

"I'm gonna try and find a job right away," Savannah said. "I'm not comfortable staying at your place and not paying my way."

"I can understand that, but I would suggest that you explore Miami first. I can appreciate your desire not to impose on anyone but, in my opinion, you are long over-due for a vacation," Horatio said. "After you've had a chance to settle in a bit and see the sights, then by all means, go job-hunting. If it makes you feel better, you can pitch in with the groceries, which would make things a bit easier for me. However, don't worry about the bills; I will take care of those."

"I can live with that," Savannah said. "I admit, I would like a chance to explore Miami a bit."

"I can recommend a few good places to check out," he said.

"Sure, if you can tell me how to get there," she replied, curious.

"I can do that. Also, may I suggest that you take a self-defense course and some counseling to help you deal with your abuse? I think both would help you tremendously and it would make me feel safer knowing you could defend yourself," Horatio said.

Again Savannah nodded in agreement. "Can you recommend anyone?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I can. I know a retired cop who teaches self-defense to women and I've heard nothing but praise for him," he replied. "We can pay him a visit on the weekend. As for the counseling, if you would like, I will look in to that."

"I would appreciate that. I know what Papa and Andrew did was wrong, but I got a bad feeling I've got quite the road to travel before I try and mess with the guys again," she admitted, her face darkening at the memories.

Horatio smiled gently at her. "Savannah, things will be okay. It may seem like you've got a long road ahead of you and it may seem hard to believe, but you will be okay. You took a major step by walking away from all that, a step that was very important. That took a lot of guts on your part and I'm very proud of you," he said. She blushed under his praise.

Horatio's home turned out to be a nice, two-bedroom condo on the second floor with a secured door. He knew that if Savannah was going to stay with him for a while, she was going to need keys. He suggested that she stop by the crime lab in the afternoon and they would take care of that particular problem. Then he showed her to the spare bedroom, which was simple but nice and would be her room for the duration of her stay. After finding out what time he would be up and moving in the morning, Savannah bid him good night and quickly did her usual bedtime routine. Despite having slept earlier that day, she was asleep the minute her head hit the pillow.


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: Okay, Chapter 3 is up and running. Trust me, I am going somewhere with this as we will see in progressing chapters. You all know the routine; R&R, please and thank you, which will determine just how fast I get the next chapter up._

**Chapter 3**

The morning dawned clear and bright and Savannah was up and moving before Horatio had even finished his morning shower. When he came into the kitchen, it was to find that Savannah had already gotten the coffee going and was getting ready to slide a freshly cooked omelet on to a plate at the table.

"Oh, good morning," she said, smiling nervously, sliding the omelet onto the plate and returning the pan to the stove. She quickly poured him a cup of coffee and placed it within reach of his plate, having seen how he took his coffee at the restaurant last night. Her father had been a mean SOB first thing in the morning, especially if breakfast wasn't ready on time. She didn't know how Horatio was going to be and decided not to take chances by getting breakfast going for him. His fridge and cupboards were reasonably well stocked with enough foodstuffs that she could get a decent breakfast going.

"Good morning," Horatio replied, smiling back and sniffing appreciatively.

"I made breakfast if you're hungry," she offered tentatively.

"I appreciate that," he said, sitting down at the table. "However, you don't have to do this all the time."

"Kinda got into the routine back home," she admitted, already working on the next omelet.

"Your father?" he asked, digging into his breakfast.

She nodded. "He used to get real cranky if he didn't get his breakfast on time," she admitted.

"Well, since I'm used to living alone, that's not likely to happen," he replied. "And by the way, this is very good."

She blushed at his praise. Horatio was beginning to realize that she probably didn't get much praise, mostly put-downs and insults.

Once Savannah sat down at the table with her own breakfast, they discussed the day's plans. He wrote down his cell phone number for her in case there was a problem and she needed to get in touch with him. Once they finished eating, he brought out a map of Miami and suggested a couple of points of interest for her. He also advised her on transit information as well as advising her on a good bank branch once he found out that she had a fair amount of cash on her, something she really didn't feel comfortable carrying around all day. They agreed to meet up for lunch later on that day.

After creating an account at a local bank, one that Horatio had recommended, depositing her cash and paycheck, and getting a temporary bankcard, Savannah began to explore Miami. She found a couple of the spots Horatio had recommended and completely enjoyed herself. She also wisely bought a hat, sunglasses, and some sunscreen. While both Miami and Ladonia got a fair amount of sunshine, Miami was closer to the tropics and the ocean, creating a different sort of heat and humidity.

When it was time to meet Horatio for lunch, Savannah managed to make her way to the crime lab with little difficulty. Horatio found her in Reception, doodling with pen and paper.

"Hey there," he said, smiling.

"Oh, hi, Horatio. How's your day so far?" she asked, putting the pen down.

"Fairly routine," he replied, noticing the drawings with curiosity. If it was one thing he appreciated, it was art, especially someone with artistic talent. "May I see?" he asked, indicating the paper. Shyly, she pushed the paper towards him. His eyebrows went up; the drawings were ink character studies of people. She'd even done a profile view of the receptionist. The drawings reminded him of the works of Michelangelo; they were that good.

"You have some real talent here," he said.

"It's nothing much, just doodles," she replied, going scarlet.

"If these are just doodles, I'd like to see what you produce when you're not doodling," he said, studying the drawings.

"Papa and Andrew always told me that artistic talent was a worthless talent and discouraged me from ever taking it seriously," she admitted.

Horatio chuckled softly. "That is where they are wrong. This is really good and if you took your art seriously, well, I can only just imagine what you could produce. People pay big money for this kind of work."

"I don't understand; why would someone pay for something that's just scribbles on paper?" she asked, clearly confused.

"Because there are people who appreciate art," he replied, putting an arm around her shoulders and moving towards the elevators.

Over lunch, Horatio coaxed Savannah to tell him about her art, especially her preferred mediums. They were, to no surprise, charcoal and pastels. She had used both soft and hard pastels before and liked combining the two.

"Papa used to hate it when I came home from school because my fingers were always dirty from the smudging I'd do in my artwork," she admitted.

"Smudging?"

"Using your fingers or a special pencil to blend or fade the colors when working with either pencils, paints, charcoals, or pastels," she explained. He nodded in understanding; he had an idea.

On his way back from his second crime scene of the day, after lunch, Horatio spotted an art supply store and pulled in.

"Good afternoon, sir," said the woman at the counter. "Can I help you with anything?"

"Actually, yes. I'm, umm, I'm looking for some art supplies for a friend. Her preferred mediums are charcoals and pastels, both soft and hard," he said, looking at the dizzying array of colors and art supplies.

"Okay, does she have any supplies of her own?" the clerk asked.

"None, as far as I know. She was never encouraged to take her art seriously," he admitted. He pulled out the doodles Savannah had done earlier that day, as well as the quick one she'd done on a napkin while they had been at the restaurant. The woman's eyes went wide as she studied the drawings.

"Your friend has talent. Okay, let's see what we can do," she said.

Horatio decided to leave the supplies with the receptionist, knowing Savannah would be there when she came to join him for dinner. The art supplies included a heavy-duty sketchpad with a clip-board-style back, a set of charcoals, eraser, and blender in it's own case, a nice set of soft pastels and a set of basic hard pastels. There was also a can of spray-on fixative and a nice bag for the whole thing. The receptionist promised to give Savannah the bag when she came in, and also promised to play Devil's Advocate since Horatio had a feeling Savannah wouldn't feel comfortable accepting such a gift from him.

In the mean time, he refocused himself on the current cases.

There was one robbery that Ryan Wolfe was working on in conjunction with another detective, a drive-by shooting with, thankfully, no casualties, just a lot of bullets. Calleigh had that one. And he and Eric Delko had just processed a hit-and-run that was looking more and more like it was alcohol-related. Just another day in the neighborhood.

He went about his routine, doing progress checks on his team and boring paperwork. At one point, Calleigh stopped by his office and handed him a folder; it contained the photographs of Savannah from yesterday. He scowled when he saw them; the abuse had been going on for some time, judging by what the UV filter photos were showing.

"Also, just out of curiosity, I called the Ladonia hospital and checked out their medical records for any of Savannah's ER trips," Calleigh said.

"And?"

She indicated a report under the photos and he pulled it out, his eyes going over it. "Fractured arms in various places, busted ribs, broken cheekbone, the usual for a victim of physical abuse," she replied. "I also spoke to a Sheriff Donaling, the local authority for that area, and he had quite a lot to say, and none of it good, except in regards to Savannah. Called her a good-natured girl and the best damn waitress he'd ever known. In regards to her father, however, it was a completely different subject. It turns out David Abbot has quite the violent history, especially with alcohol. Donaling's tried repeatedly to get Savannah to press charges but she was always too scared to do so. David has, however, been arrested numerous times on alcohol-related charges."

"And the boyfriend, Andrew?"

"Andrew Jackson, age twenty-two, already charged with assault on an ex-girlfriend," she reported. "The charge was later dropped."

"Any idea why?"

"Donaling figured it was because Andrew was from a very prominent family who forced the girl to drop the charges; he was never sure how. All he knows is that the girl was found in a creek a week later. He fingered Andrew but with no evidence, the case went cold."

"And Savannah became his next victim." Calleigh nodded. "Okay, good work; I appreciate this."

"No problem. How's Savannah doing, by the way?"

"She's settling in reasonably well, but time will tell. I did, however, discover that she is quite the talented artist," he said, showing her the drawings Savannah had done.

"_Wow._ These are _good_," Calleigh said, her eyes going wide.

"She called those 'doodles.' I'm hoping, as part of her healing progress, to encourage her talent. It seems that David and Andrew both discouraged her from seriously pursuing art, calling it a waste of time," Horatio explained.

"That's a good idea. If these are doodles, I would love to see what she could create when she isn't doodling. Heck, I'd place good money on her being able to get some serious commissions," Calleigh said.

"So would I," Horatio said. "So would I."


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: okay, Chapter 4 up and running. After Chapter 4, things are going to jump ahead a little bit and then things are going to start getting really interesting, so keep reading and reviews are, as we all know, always welcome._

**Chapter 4**

When Savannah stopped by Reception that evening, she was all but bouncing. She'd gotten a job that afternoon at a café near the ocean and, for a waitress position, it paid well. She would be starting her new job tomorrow morning. She was sure Horatio would be pleased.

Jane smiled at Savannah and handed her the artist bag.

"What's this?" Savannah asked, curious.

"A gift from Horatio. He said you needed it," Jane explained.

Curious, Savannah looked inside the bag and found, to her surprise, the art supplies. Her eyes went wide with wonder. "But-but why?" she asked, growing worried and confused.

"Because he wants you to be happy, sugar," came Alexx's voice. Savannah looked up to discover the M.E. standing nearby. "And if drawing makes you happy, then he'll do what he can to help you do that."

"But ma'am, where I come from, gifts come with a price tag," Savannah admitted. "Both Papa and Andrew said that nothing in life was free. You get, you give."

Alexx snorted softly. "Honey, Horatio isn't like that, not at all. The only thing he wants is for you to be happy. You have an incredible artistic ability and he's simply trying to help you foster that," she explained.

"He's not gonna ask for any… favors?" Savannah asked, still struggling to believe her.

"If you're talking about the kind of favors I think you're talking about," Alexx began, watching the girl's face go scarlet, "then the answer is a definite _no_. He's not that kind of man. Honey, Horatio will never lay a hand on you in anger or in a sexual fashion. That's not his way. In all the years I've known him, there are only two times I know of when Horatio has hit somebody and the second one I'm not even a hundred percent sure about, but both times it's been warranted."

"What were the two times?" Savannah asked hesitantly. She was curious and this was a good way to find out a bit more about her roommate.

"Both incidents involved men who had gone after his own. One fellow murdered a woman he'd known and another, if the rumors are true, had been involved in the murder of his wife," Alexx replied. "Horatio looks after his own, no matter who they are and no matter the circumstances."

Savannah nodded, absorbing the information.

"It's just… this is like a dream for me. I've never owned anything like this, never had anyone tell me they _wanted_ me to draw. I'm afraid I'm going wake up and find out I'm still in Alabama and this was all just a dream. I've never had any of my dreams come true," she confessed.

Alexx put her arms around the girl and gave her a comforting hug. "Then maybe it's time they started coming true," she said, smiling.

Savannah nodded. Alexx was a comforting person and it had been a long time since she'd been held the way Alexx was holding her. She found herself missing her mother and Alexx seemed to sense this, giving the girl a badly-needed mother-type hug.

"You're safe, sugar, you're safe," she said.

"Give me a bit of time and I might actually start believing it," Savannah admitted. "I'd feel a lot safer if I knew where I could find a rifle and some buckshot though," she said.

"Whatever for?" Alexx asked.

"Just in case a certain ornery critter by the name of Rick decides to show up and get mouthy again."

"Are we talking about Rick Settler, Internal Affairs?" Alexx asked.

"Guess so. He accused Horatio of cradle-robbing 'cause I'd had a nap in his office."

Alexx scowled. "That boy had better watch his mouth."

"Which is why I wanted a loaded rifle. Kinda hard to say much when someone's shoved buckshot up your backside," Savannah said, grinning. Both Jane and Alexx snorted with laughter.

"In that case, talk to Calleigh. She's our ballistics expert," Jane said.

"Then she must be the Southern lady Horatio said would clobber him if he didn't at least offer me his couch when I admitted to being tired yesterday," Savannah said.

"That's Calleigh," Alexx said, grinning.

Horatio finally appeared, smiling when he saw Savannah and Alexx. He was with Eric Delko and Savannah blushed when she saw the good-looking Russian-Cuban CSI, who smiled at her.

"Hey there," Horatio said. "Are you hungry?" he asked Savannah.

"Always," she replied.

"Good. This is Eric Delko, our CSI and diving expert," Horatio said, introducing Savannah to Eric. "Eric, this is Savannah Abbot from Ladonia, Alabama. She'll be staying with me for a while."

"A pleasure to meet you," Eric said, offering his hand, which she accepted.

"Likewise," she replied, still blushing.

"How are you finding Miami so far?" he asked, deciding she was a pretty young lady and a little harmless flirting wouldn't hurt any.

"It's very… culturally different," she squeaked out.

Eric chuckled. "That's one way of putting it, yes," he said, grinning, causing Savannah's face to turn scarlet again, and duck her head shyly.

"And on that note, shall we head for dinner?" Horatio asked, smiling, quickly sensing a rescue was needed on Savannah's part.

Savannah nodded, feeling as if she would burst into flames any minute. They bid Eric and Alexx good night and headed for the elevators, which had, thankfully, just opened.

Once Horatio and Savannah were gone, Alexx said, "We need to keep a fire extinguisher around when you show up around Savannah."

"Why?" Eric asked, still grinning. He was fully aware of the effect he had on the younger female population and found it quite amusing.

"Because I thought the poor girl was going to spontaneously combust any second!" Alexx shot back, also grinning.

Jane reached under the Reception desk and popped back up a second later, fire extinguisher in hand and a mischievous grin on her face. "I think I'll keep this a little bit closer next time, just in case you really turn the charm on the girl," she quipped, causing both Alexx and Eric to laugh.

Outside, Savannah blushed as she spoke.

"Horatio?"

"Hmm?"

"Th-thank you for the art supplies. It was really, really nice of you and I appreciate it a lot," she stammered out. Horatio looked at her and smiled. She found herself itching to capture that smile on paper, right down to the way the moonlight and the building lights played across his face and hair.

"You're more than welcome. And just so we're clear, I don't expect anything out of it," he said.

"I know. Alexx set me straight on a few things," she admitted.

"That's good to hear," he said, silently thanking Alexx. "Now, how does seafood sound to you?"

"Sounds good to me. I also got some good news."

"Good news is always good to hear," he said, unlocking his car door and letting her get in.

Once she was buckled up and they were heading towards the seafood restaurant, Savannah told him about her new job and how she'd gotten it with no résumé.

_Flashback to earlier that day:_

After lunch, Savannah and Horatio had parted ways after agreeing that Savannah would meet him back at the lab at a certain time later that evening for dinner.

Savannah'd had a wonderful time checking out downtown Miami before making her way to the beach. There, she indulged herself a bit by playing in the ocean but not going too far from land. The waves were a new experience for her and she found herself enjoying herself immensely. After a bit, she decided to stop at an outdoor café near the ocean and treat herself to coffee and desert while watching the public.

It was while she was sipping her Cuban-flavored coffee that there was a very loud crashing noise. Heads snapped around, including hers, to spot a young Cuban waitress looking completely humiliated; she'd accidentally dropped a very large tray full of dirty dishes. Spotting the host, a guy with a smarmy attitude, sneering at the girl, Savannah instantly felt sorry for the girl and rushed from her seat to try and help.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," she soothed as she crouched down to help. The girl looked up at her, nearly in tears and her face scarlet. "It's okay, sister; these things happen. I'll help you."

"You don't have to," the girl started.

"Nonsense. One waitress to another, regardless of where we work, we help each other," Savannah said, neatly piling the dishes back on to the tray. Thankfully, nothing was broken. She lifted the tray and put it on a nearby empty table. "You been doing this long?"

"No, only a month and I'm terrified of loosing my job," the girl admitted.

"I don't think you're gonna loose your job over one lousy spill; I've been a waitress for three years and I can't tell you how many spills I've taken, especially the first year I started," Savannah said, rearranging the dishes on the tray to properly balance it. The girl's face lit up at the prospect of finding a confident who understood the job, especially one as friendly as Savannah. "Tell you what, I'm gonna give you a couple of tips that I learned the hard way about, okay?" The girl nodded eagerly. "There are three things you always gotta remember when you're dealing with trays, especially heavy ones like this. Balance, Board, and Bend. The three B's, as I call 'em. With Balance, try and center your dishes in the middle of the tray as much as possible, but don't stack 'em too high. If you think you have too much on your tray, it's best to make two trips and waste time rather than making one trip and having an accident. With me so far?" The girl nodded again, paying close attention. She was beginning to wish someone had told her this stuff sooner, but Savannah was here, so she would do her best to remember and learn. "Okay, Board." She knelt down so she was shoulder level with the tray and the girl joined her. "Board is for your back. Keep it as straight as you can and the best way to do that is pretend you've got a board shoved up your backside. It might cause you to push out your chest a bit, but it will help," she explained, demonstrating. "Bend is very important. Use your legs, especially your thighs, to stand up, never your back. So, in this situation, you gotta bend a bit to get the tray up. Slid the tray on to your shoulder and never be afraid to use your shoulder for that extra bit of support." Savannah carefully slid the tray on to her shoulder and gripped it. Then she carefully stood up, using her thighs to stand up. The girl watched in awe as she neatly got the tray balanced. "Where's the kitchen?" she asked.

"This way," the girl said, quickly leading the way. In the kitchen, Savannah reversed the procedure and neatly slid the tray off her shoulder and on to the counter.

"Keeping your back straight at all times like that will actually save your back in the long run," Savannah explained as they left the kitchen. "If you need to, one of the best things you can invest in is a back brace. They're easy enough to get, they're not expensive, and they provide support for your lower back, and if you wear it under your shirt, no one will notice."

The girl nodded, taking it under very serious consideration. "Thank you. I will remember what you said," she said, smiling.

"Not a problem, sister, not a problem," Savannah replied, smiling back and heading back to her table. "I'm Savannah, by the way."

"Maria," the girl said, still smiling.

"Nice to meet you, Maria," Savannah said, sitting down. Darn, her coffee had grown cold. Oh well, it still tasted good. "Better return to your duties before that bonehead over there," she said, nodding in the direction of the host, "gets pissy with you."

Maria nodded and quickly moved off and Savannah continued to enjoy her coffee, waiting for her desert. A moment later, a man bearing a tray and her desert arrived at her table. "Oh, thank you," she said.

"My name is Davis and I'm the manager here. May I join you?" the man asked.

Savannah gestured at an empty seat. "Help yourself," she said.

"That was very kind of you to help Maria the way you did. She tells me you said you've been a waitress for three years," Davis said, sitting down.

"Yup. I was a waitress for this diner in Ladonia, Alabama, for three years, almost four. Even the local sheriff liked me; said I was one of the best waitresses he'd ever known and could pour coffee with the best of 'em, never spilling a drop," she said cheerfully.

"Tell me about your experience," Davis said. And she did, throwing in a couple of humorous stories that still made her giggle even now.

"Well, by any chance are you looking for a job?" he asked, satisfied with what he'd learned.

"Yes, very much so," she said.

"In that case, I am offering you one as a waitress here," he said. He named a salary figure and Savannah found her jaw dropping open. It was more than she'd been making when she'd been in Alabama.

"For what you're offering, sir, I'll take it," she said.

"In that case, can you start in the morning?" he asked, smiling.

"Name the time and I'll be here." Davis named the time and she made a note of it on a napkin. Horatio was going to be really pleased with her. "Oh, clothing requirements; what am I expected to wear?"

"No jeans but definitely casually comfortable and professional," Davis said, pleased she'd asked. "We will supply you with an apron tomorrow morning."

"Sounds good," she said, watching as Maria watched her. She gave the girl a small thumbs-up and the girl all but bounced with glee. She had a feeling she was going to wind up being good friends with Maria and that was okay with her.

"Oh, and by the way, your bill has been paid for," Davis said. Savannah blinked in shock and he smiled. "It's our way of saying, 'Welcome to Seaside Café'."

"I can live with that!"

_Present moment:_

Horatio smiled. "The Seaside Café is a really nice place," he said. "You won't have much trouble, except during costal storms, but I would imagine they have methods to prevent too much damage." Savannah nodded. "I am very pleased, but more so for you than about you getting a job. You're going to be okay."

She nodded again, smiling to herself. _Maybe Alexx was right; maybe, just maybe, my dreams are going to start coming true,_ she thought.


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: Okay, Chapter 5 here and guess what? Things are going to start picking up as Savannah's artistic talent brings her a world of joy and, unexpectedly, a world of trouble._

_Nemi Jade: thanks for the suggestion, but as you'll find out in this chapter, Eric and Savannah will always be nothing more than friends and the reason will be a good one, I promise._

_Thanks to all who have read this and I promise, more is coming._

**Chapter 5**

Over the next several weeks Savannah and Horatio steadily settled into a routine that was comfortable for both of them. She began taking counseling sessions once a week with a recommended counselor and self-defense classes on the weekend. She also worked with both Horatio and Calleigh to get her weapon's license. To Calleigh's delight and Horatio's surprise, Savannah was a crack shot with a rifle, finding she favored a Winchester .243 bolt-action rifle, mainly for it's accuracy and multi-type cartridge usage. She admitted it was the rifle Sheriff Donaling had introduced her to when she first started learning how to shoot.

For safety and convenience reasons, Savannah had wisely invested in a cell phone and now had Horatio's cell phone number on her speed-dial.

In Horatio's office now hung a framed charcoal and pastel drawing of himself. As a way of saying thank you, Savannah's first 'serious' drawing had been of him, smiling. Another frame held a sheet full of charcoal character sketches of him, also by Savannah. She had blushed furiously when she'd handed him the framed artwork and he'd immediately called building maintenance to have the artwork put up in his office. Since then, he'd received numerous compliments on it.

Savannah had met Ryan Wolfe and the other detectives that Horatio often worked with and got along reasonably well with them, but Eric still made her blush and it didn't help that he knew he made her blush. Once he'd gotten her background from Horatio, he went out of his way to be friendly, knowing it helped her ego. Besides, he liked her, but in a brotherly-type way.

In her off time, Savannah cooked and cleaned for Horatio, finding she enjoyed it knowing he appreciated it. When he worked late, she made dinner for him and dropped it off at his office. She had also found a small park near the condo and spent hours simply sketching the people she saw there, noticing her art grew steadily better.

Horatio came home at a normal time one evening and sniffed the air appreciatively. Savannah had done some baking recently and had also made dinner for him, having done a morning shift at the Seaside Café. It was now sitting in the oven, warm and waiting for him. Now she sat on the couch catching up on the latest news. Her drawing pad sat open on the counter to the day's sketches. Horatio gave them a curiosity glance but froze when one sketch caught his eye. He picked up the pad and studied it closer. What he saw made his blood go cold.

"Savannah?" he asked, coming over to the couch, drawing pad in hand and flipping back over her sketches. He spotted the same man several times over several days, if the dates on the paper were correct.

"Yes?" she asked, looking up at him with curiosity.

He sat down next to her and handed her the drawing pad. He pointed out the man in her drawings. "Where did you see this guy?" he asked.

"At Covington Park, which is a few blocks from here," she said, wondering what was wrong.

"How often?" he asked, his tone of voice very serious.

"Pretty much every time I go there, usually in the afternoon, after three, sometimes four p.m.," she replied. Something was definitely wrong and she was worried she'd done something wrong. "Umm, Horatio, is everything okay?"

Horatio sighed heavily. He didn't want to worry Savannah but if he didn't at least explain what the problem was, he knew she'd start getting nervous. "If I'm right, the man in these drawings is a very dangerous, very badly wanted, drug dealer. This fellow is linked to several gang-style killings and the DEA have been hunting high and low for him for some time. Now, you're telling me that you've seen him at Covington Park several times," he explained patiently. Savannah gulped nervously, her eyes going wide. "Are you doing anything tomorrow?" he asked.

"Just my counseling session tomorrow at eleven a.m. and then I was going to do some grocery shopping after that and some household chores," she replied, still nervous.

"Okay, right after your counseling session I want you to come straight to the lab and bring your drawing pad. Will you do that for me?" he asked. She nodded. "I am going to arrange for a meeting with the DEA in charge of arresting this guy and I want to make sure this guy is who I think he is. I don't want to alarm you, but you may be giving the DEA a chance to nail a particularly big fish in the drug pond." Savannah nodded again. "Once you're on your way to the lab, call me on my cell so I know to expect you. Then, when you get to the lab, head straight to my office. I will either be there or be on my way." Again, Savannah nodded. Horatio realized he needed to reassure Savannah when he caught the look of fear on her face. "It's okay, Savannah. I'm not trying to scare you, but this is very serious business. If this guy is who I think it is, as I said, you may be giving the DEA a chance to take him down, and that, Savannah, that is a very good thing."

The next day, right after her counseling session, Savannah called Horatio and let him know she was on her way, just as she had promised she would. When she got to the lab, Jane simply waved her by and she headed straight for Horatio's office. He wasn't there yet, so she sat on the couch to wait, feeling drained. Her counseling sessions always left her feeling a bit drained due to the emotion involved, but her counselor, Tina, said she was getting better and warned her, yet again, that it was going to take time. Mind you, the self-defense courses she was taking were also helping and some times, especially when she found her anger getting the better of her, she would go make use of Horatio's punching bag. He had admitted once, when he'd shown her the bag and the gloves, that he would often do the same some times. She was seriously starting to wonder if she shouldn't be taking kickboxing on top of everything else she was already doing. She had said that to Horatio sarcastically once and he'd laughed.

Savannah had nearly dozed off on the couch when Horatio entered the office, a tall, Kevin-Sorboish man in a dark blue uniform behind him, carrying a file. When Horatio saw that Savannah was there, he smiled and handed her a cup of coffee he'd thoughtfully brought from the break-room. She smiled in appreciation and looked at the newcomer with curiosity.

Earlier that day, Horatio had spoken to a supervisor in the DEA department about Clavo Sandoval, the man Savannah had seen in the park, and had been lead to DEA agent Paul Hickoc. Upon meeting Paul, Horatio had asked about the case and the two men had discussed it. When Paul asked about Horatio's interest in the case, he had explained he knew someone who might be able to help him in regards to the case and that she was meeting him in his office.

"Savannah, this is DEA agent Paul Hickoc, who's in charge of the case dealing with Clavo Sandoval," Horatio explained, introducing the man. "Paul, this is Savannah Abbot." Savannah and Paul shook hands and both men sat down. "Now, Paul, there is a possibility Savannah may have seen your suspect in Covington Park recently."

Paul's face lit up. He opened his file and brought out a mug shot, showing it to Savannah. "This the guy?" he asked her.

She studied the photograph carefully before nodding. "That's the guy," she said. She took out her drawing pad and flipped the book open to a page, which she then showed to Paul. He whistled as he flipped through the drawings.

"That's our guy all right," he said. "Covington Park, huh? What does he do while he's there?" he asked.

"Talks to people a lot, chatter on his cell phone some times. I usually don't pay too much attention to exactly what he's doing, just things like his body posture, face, hands, anything that catches my eye," she replied. "Mostly character studies."

"We want this guy and we want him bad," Paul said. "Trouble is, he's a slippery bastard. Just when we think we've got him, he gives us the slip, but if these dates are right, he's been hanging around Covington Park for quite a few days. We just need a positive I.D. on him before we can bust his ass."

"What can I do to help?" she asked.

"It would depend on what you're willing to do," Horatio said.

"Well, if this Clavo Sandoval has got to go down, then I'll do what I can to help. I'm sure I can make positive I.D. if it'll help you guys nail him," Savannah said.

"There is a certain amount of risk involved," Horatio cautioned.

"Nobody ever said doing the right thing was always easy," Savannah pointed out calmly.

"If you're willing, we can set you up with a basic surveillance system, studying his movements for a day or two to make sure, and then, when the time is right, move in," Paul said.

"What if he realizes I'm watching him?" Savannah asked. "Horatio says he's been linked to several gang-style killings."

"Believe me when I say that if you were to do this, you would be watched very, _very_ closely by us," Paul said.

"If I do this, then you better damn well be watching my back, buster, 'cause I didn't come all this way from Alabama just to get my ass shot off," Savannah shot back.

"And that is my concern as well," Horatio said.

"I understand," Paul said. "Which is why I give both of you the option of backing out any time something feels wrong. To be on the safe side, as well, I'll run this whole thing by my supervisor and get his input in it. If he feels it's too dangerous a to risk you, I won't say another word on the subject." Both Horatio and Savannah nodded.

"And if he feels it's worth the risk?" Horatio nodded.

"Then Savannah, here, had better get used to wearing a bullet-proof vest when she's at that park," Paul said. Savannah gulped nervously.

After chatting for a bit more about Clavo's movements at the park, Savannah bid the two men good day, saying she would think about what Paul was asking off her, and said she would see Horatio later. Both men watched her depart.

"She's got guts for someone who's still fairly young, but she seems so damn old," Paul said.

"That, I have been told, is the usual case for victims of abuse, especially children," Horatio said. "They tend to grow up much faster than what they should."

Paul nodded, having seen such a thing on too many occasions for his liking. "How old is Savannah, if you don't mind my asking?"

"Nineteen going on twenty in a few short months," Horatio said.

"That damn young? Jeeze, I would've placed her in her late twenties from the lines around her face," Paul said.

Horatio smiled but it was a smile without humor. "Alexx, our M.E., calls Savannah young in body but old in soul. She has not had a good start in life and I intend to make sure that changes."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Several days had passed since the discussion between DEA agent Hickoc, Horatio, and Savannah. Savannah had quietly discussed the matter over with Horatio later that night, and Horatio had advised her as best as he could. After thinking the whole situation over very carefully, Savannah had come to the decision that she would do what she could to help, provided that her back was watched very, very carefully. She didn't feel like winding up as another victim of a drug dealer. At their next meeting, Hickoc had readily agreed, more so under the dark glaring warning of Horatio's eyes, which silently promised dire consequences if he didn't hold up his end of the bargain and Savannah got hurt.

Savannah's first watch had been very nerve-wracking and had resulted in nothing; Sandoval hadn't shown up. Savannah had later explained to Hickoc that this was normal for the guy; she never knew when he was going to show up. They had agreed to a simple watch plan of Savannah alerting Hickoc whenever she was going to hit the park and an agent would be nearby, keeping an eye on both her and Sandoval.

It was a beautiful, sunny Miami day and Savannah was outside, dealing with her customers at the Seaside Café. She was laughing at something Maria had just commented on when she spotted something. It was a dark-colored car that seemed to be cruising through the Seaside parking lot. Something didn't seem right about it. Then Maria spotted the car too, and she came close to Savannah.

"I think we may have trouble," she said nervously. Savannah nodded, already reaching for her cell phone to put in a report to 9-1-1, just in case.

"Go get Davis and let him know," Savannah said, as she flipped open her cell. The girl nodded and was walking away when all hell broke loose.

The windows of the car suddenly rolled down and something flashed. Before she could comprehend that it was the muzzle of a gun, bullets started flying. And the screaming started and the glass started flying. Somehow, she found herself on the ground, Antonio on top of her, trying to shield her. Antonio was a waiter who was extremely good-looking and could have any woman he wanted, if it weren't for the fact that he preferred men. As it was, both Maria and Savannah loved and treated him as affectionately as any brother, and he returned that affection.

Somewhere behind her, someone cried out in pain.

And, as quickly as it had started, the shooting stopped. Savannah cautiously raised her head and spotted Maria lying on the ground. Blood was starting to stain her white blouse and, ignoring Antonio's pleas to be careful and keep her head down, she quickly scrambled over to her best friend.

"Maria! Maria, hang in there," she pleaded, yanking open the blouse and spotting blood emerging from a gunshot wound to the stomach region. "Someone call 9-1-1!" she yelled, even as she yanked off her outer shirt for a make-shift compress to try and stem the blood flow and grabbed a tablecloth off an empty table and used it as a pillow for Maria's head. All of her first-aid training kicked in and blanked everything else out from her mind. She cautiously lifted Maria, soothing her as the girl whimpered, to try and see if the injury was a through-and-through; it wasn't. She cussed silently; the bullet was still lodged inside Maria and that had just as much potential for trouble as a through-and-through.

"We've got a bleeder over here!" someone yelled. After reassuring herself that Maria was okay, she grabbed some towels from somewhere and bolted over to the bleeder. Working with those who knew what to do, she attempted to stabilize the victim, a man who had taken a shot to the chest.

Finally, finally, the paramedics showed up and took over. And that was when she saw a familiar face in the growing crowd of medical and police personnel; Detective Frank Tripp. He was a nice officer and Savannah had liked him, despite his gruff appearance. It was then that he spotted her too, and his eyes went wide at her appearance; she had blood on her from both Maria and the chest-wound victim and her hair and clothes were a mess. He quickly went over to her, recognizing her as Horatio's roommate from Alabama.

"Savannah, are you okay?" he demanded, coming over to her, worry on his face.

She nodded numbly and shivered. Funny, she was suddenly cold, even though it was a warm day. Dimly she heard Frank yelling for someone and then someone put a blanket around her and lead her to an ambulance.

"I'm going to call Horatio, okay?" Frank said, rubbing her shoulders. She nodded but Frank could see it in her eyes that she had slipped into shock. He got out his cell and placed a call he really didn't want to make.

A silver-colored Hummer, blue and red lights flashing, pulled up to the parking lot and slid to a stop with a screech of the tires. Horatio Caine bolted out of the Hummer and headed for the Seaside Café, flashing his badge at the officer on the other side of the yellow tape, who lifted the tape for him. Less than fifteen minutes ago he'd been at another scene when he'd received an urgent phone call from Detective Frank Tripp, telling him to get down to the Seaside Café, as there had just been a drive-by shooting and Savannah had been involved. Horatio's anxiety levels had shot up as he knew Savannah was working that day and it was a nice day, meaning she would be working outside.

"Frank!" Horatio yelled, spotting Frank. He was standing inside a pair of ambulance doors but Horatio couldn't see whom he was talking to. The detective looked up and waved Horatio over. He dashed over to Frank to find him fussing over Savannah, who was seated inside the ambulance, a blanket around her shoulders and a blank look about her. She looked okay but he knew she was in shock.

"What happened?" he demanded.

"Witnesses are saying there was a drive-by shooting. Someone in a dark-colored vehicle pulled out a gun and started shooting at the café. We got a bunch of minor injuries, mostly from flying glass, and two criticals. Ambulance just took 'em to Grace Memorial," Frank said. He gently pulled Horatio to one side and quietly said, "Horatio, one of the criticals was apparently a friend of Savannah's, a Cuban girl by the name of Maria. That's her blood Savannah's got on her shirt; seems the girl took a shot to the stomach and may or may not survive. When the medics got to them, Savannah had already begun emergency first aid procedures on both her and another victim, a male who took a bullet to the chest."

"And now?"

"The medics are saying she's gone in to emotional shock. She's not talking much, and if she does say anything, it's more of a confused question, like she can't quite comprehend what's going on. When she does eventually pull out of it, you and I both know what's going to happen, provided she doesn't slip into clinical shock," Frank said. Horatio nodded. "Now, we've got guys already on the look-out for the drive-by vehicle and I've already called Dispatch for some CSI's but my immediate concern is Savannah. We need to know what happened, especially since a number of witnesses are suggesting that it looked like she was the possible target. Any ideas why?"

"Keep this to yourself for now, but the DEA was working with Savannah in regards to a high-profile drug dealer by the name of Clavo Sandoval. She'd spotted him at a local park recently and had sketches to prove it. She mentioned to me last night that it felt like she was being followed lately but had tried brushing it off as the DEA trying to protect her. I'm starting to wonder now if it wasn't just the DEA that was following her," Horatio said, a scowl crossing his face.

"I know of Sandoval. Guy's a vicious, paranoid bastard who once said that paranoia kept him alive and his competitors dead," Frank said. "Could he have gotten suspicious of Savannah and decided to eliminate her?"

"It's possible," Horatio said, "which means we need to get her out of here and under protective custody."

"We need her statement, as well, but the trouble is, until she pulls out of her shock, we can't do much," Frank said.

"Work with what you can for now. I'm going to take Savannah back to the lab for temporary protective custody and hand her over to Alexx while I talk to the DEA." Frank nodded. Horatio turned to the attending paramedic and said, "If I promise you she'll see a doctor right away, will you release her to me?"

The paramedic nodded and said, "Keep a close eye on her, though. Right now she's in emotional shock but she could slip into clinical shock without warning." He handed Horatio a release form, which he signed.

Then Horatio removed the blanket from around Savannah's shoulders and was about to replace it with his jacket when a tall, dark-haired, green-eyed man with a Seaside Café name tag on his shirt, identifying him as "Antonio", came up, a large polar-fleece blanket in one hand.

"Better the blanket than your jacket; blood can be a pain for the cleaners to get out of that material," he said.

Horatio nodded and carefully wrapped the blanket around Savannah. Then, both he and Antonio lead the girl to Horatio's Hummer. Once she was safely inside and belted up, Antonio turned to Horatio, concern in his eyes.

"Is she going to be okay? I know she's in shock, but my concern is her mental health. Shootings like this always do a number on the fragile ones," he said.

"Unfortunately, time will tell with her. We can only hope she pulls out of the shock soon," Horatio replied. He remembered Savannah telling him about Antonio, saying he was a lot of fun and both she and Maria had fun teasing him about his preference for men. "You seem to know a lot about shootings."

"Grew up in the Bronx area of New York, smack-dab in the middle of Gang Land. Decided to come here rather than take my chances of landing on a metal slab in cold storage," Antonio explained grimly. Horatio nodded in understanding. "If she does pull out of the shock within the next forty-eight hours, tell her Boss Man said we're going to shut down for a week for repairs and what-not and we're all getting regular pay during this time."

"I'll tell her," Horatio assured the man.

"In that case, get her outta here," Antonio said, walking away to see what else he could do to help.

On his way to the lab, Horatio put in a call to Alexx, who quickly directed him to the back receiving area, where she would meet him. When advised about Savannah's state of mind and the condition of her clothes, Alexx promised to scrounge up some clean clothes for the girl. When the Hummer pulled up to the receiving area of the lab, Alexx was waiting. She quickly took over and led Savannah to the locker room for a shower and to get her out of her bloodied clothes. Assured that she was in good hands, Horatio left to deal with the DEA and his previous crime scene.

While Savannah was in the shower, appearing to be acting on auto, Alexx waited in the locker room, keeping a close ear out for the girl. Calleigh came in to get something from her locker.

"Hey Alexx, what's up?" the blonde CSI asked.

"Waiting for Savannah to finish her shower. The poor girl was just involved in a drive-by shooting and was trying to help someone, so she's got blood all over her, poor thing," Alexx explained. "She's also in shock, which means I'm keeping a very close eye on her."

"Wow, does Horatio know?" Calleigh asked, concerned.

"He brought her in, thinking she might have been the target of the drive-by because she recently identified a very dangerous drug dealer," Alexx said. She was about to say more when a piercing scream suddenly rent the air, coming from the direction of the showers.


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N: thanks again for reading this and I promise, more is coming._

**Chapter 7**

Both Calleigh and Alexx bolted towards the scream.

They found Savannah staring in horror at her hands and at the blood that was slowly running through the water and down the drain. When she heard Alexx and Calleigh, she looked up at them, breathing hard, clearly frightened and confused.

"Alexx? Alexx, what's going on? Why is there blood on my hands?" Savannah demanded, near hysteria.

"Calleigh, grab me a towel and a face cloth, please," Alexx barked, reaching in to shut the water off from the shower. Calleigh quickly shoved the towel into the Medical Examiner's hand and Alexx wrapped the towel and her arms around Savannah, even as she slowly sank to the floor. Calleigh dampened the face cloth and began to gently clean Savannah's hands.

"Alexx, what happened?" Savannah begged again, still not quite comprehending what was going on.

"There was a drive-by shooting at the Seaside Café, do you remember?" Alexx asked gently.

Memories began to slowly emerge from the jumble in her mind and Savannah nodded jerkily.

"Your friend, Maria, got hit and the blood was from you trying to save her life," Alexx explained.

"There was, there was another man, I think. He took-he was hit in the chest and…." Savannah said haltingly.

"And you tried to save him too?" Calleigh asked gently.

Savannah nodded.

"You did good, baby, you did really good," Alexx soothed.

Savannah nodded again, and then, before she could stop them, the tears came, hard and fast. Alexx and Calleigh both comforted the girl as best as they could, with Alexx gently rocking her the way she would her own child.

And Savannah cried. She cried for the horror she'd just experienced, for all the anger and rage and pain that had built up as she slowly recovered from the years of abuse, for missing her mother and desperately, just desperately needing to be held by a parent, especially a mother. It was an emotional cascade of massive proportions. When the tears finally eased off, she was left feeling physically and emotionally drained. Together, Calleigh and Alexx helped Savannah dry off and get dressed in her clothes again, sans top, which was replaced with a clean scrub top, generously donated by Alexx. Then Alexx took her to a quiet storage room that sometimes got used as a nap room by Alexx or any of the other morgue staff when they had too many bodies and not enough time to go home and grab some sleep. There was a comfortable cot in the room, complete with blanket and pillow, which Alexx coaxed Savannah to lie on. The exhausted girl was out like a light the moment her head hit the pillow.

It was several hours before Horatio finally caught up to Alexx again and inquired about Savannah.

"I was just about to go check on her," Alexx said, heading for the storage room with Horatio. "What happened, by the way? I know there was a drive-by shooting and Savannah tried to help some people who were injured, including her best friend, Maria."

"It is looking more and more like a contract hit on Savannah by Clavo Sandoval, a very paranoid drug dealer she recently i.d.'d at a local park," Horatio said. "The DEA knew of it and was working with her to watch Clavo but the possibility that Clavo spotted Savannah watching him and may have seen her talking to the DEA, that concept is becoming more and more of a likelihood."

"So a drug dealer put a hit out on her just because she tried to do the right thing?" Alexx demanded. Horatio nodded. "And he tried to do it with a drive-by, not caring about who he hit or whether or not he would hit her, never mind somebody else?" Again Horatio nodded. Alexx said something rude, causing Horatio to raise an eyebrow at her language. Alexx was very much a lady, except when she was angry, and now was one of those times, it seems. "What did the DEA have to say?"

"In this case, this was the last thing anyone expected. It seems that Clavo is a lot more paranoid than they originally thought, and the concept of him going after an innocent like Savannah amongst a crowd of other innocents, that was something they did not anticipate nor expect. As it is, as of now, Savannah is under protective custody until Clavo is behind bars," Horatio explained. "They are not to blame for this, Clavo is."

Alexx nodded reluctantly. They had arrived at the storage room where Savannah had been sleeping, and now they entered it, to find Savannah stirring. Both Alexx and Horatio crouched down and Alexx gently rubbed the girl's shoulders. Finally, she opened her eyes. Dark blue eyes slowly adjusted to the light and her surroundings before settling on her companions.

"Hey," Horatio said.

"Hi," Savannah said, sitting up and running her fingers through her sleep-tousled hair that had a dozen cowlicks from having dried while she'd been sleeping.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, sitting next to her on the cot.

Savannah was quiet for a moment, sorting herself out mentally. "I'm going to be okay. I'm a bit hungry but other wise, I'm okay. Do you know if Maria is okay?" she asked.

Horatio nodded. "I've received word from Grace Memorial, where they took her. They had to do emergency surgery on her to get the bullet out, but she'll be okay. Maria was very, very lucky; the bullet grazed her large intestine and lodged in the muscle but it didn't hit anything vital." Savannah sighed with relief.

"And the man that got hit in the chest?" she asked.

"He'll be okay as well," Horatio said. "Your first aid procedures helped save his life."

"I'm glad I could help," Savannah said.

"Antonio also said that they're going to have to shut down the Café for about a week due to the damage and to allow for the investigation into the shooting. He said your boss said that everyone would have that time off with regular pay," Horatio said.

Savannah nodded. "I kinda owe Antonio big time; he pulled me down when the shooting started."

"Do you feel like making a statement to Detective Tripp?" he asked.

Savannah nodded. "Wish I had my drawing pad and supplies; I could probably sketch the car, even if it doesn't turn out to be useful."

"Actually, you can do that. Reception said someone by the name of Antonio Lee dropped off your purse and bag while you were sleeping," Alexx said.

"Tall, dark hair and green eyes?" Savannah asked, grinning. "And probably making eyes at the guys?"

"That sounds like him," Alexx said.

"That's Antonio from Seaside Café. He's a sweetie and he one of those lookers who could have any woman he wanted just by smiling, but he prefers guys, and both Maria and I are very, very fond of him," Savannah explained.

"I met him," Horatio said, nodding.

"Hope he didn't come on to you," Savannah said. Horatio shook his head, smiling. "Good, otherwise I would've had to have a talk with him and let him know that your door don't swing thataway." She sighed heavily. "Okay, first stop, Reception. Second stop, Frank. Third, home and something to eat."

"Sounds like a plan," Alexx said, smiling.

Fortunately Frank was back and he took Savannah's statement while she sketched something. When she was done she handed him the drawing. It was a charcoal sketch of the vehicle as it drove by moments before the shooting started. Frank was impressed, recognizing the make and model of the vehicle.

"What's going to happen now?" Savannah asked.

"Well, we're following up on some leads at the moment but, Savannah, I want you to be aware of the fact that it is looking more and more like Sandoval put out a hit on you," Horatio said. They were at Frank's desk and all three were seated.

"'Cause I saw him, right?" Savannah asked tiredly. Horatio nodded, watching her closely. She rubbed her eyes, a sign she was getting tired again, Horatio knew. "I'm not runnin' but I'm not suicidal either, so I guess I'd better get used to the whole Kevlar vest thing, huh?"

Both men nodded.

"You will be placed under protective custody by the DEA, since they got you into this mess," Frank said.

"No, I got myself into this mess. It just happens to be the DEA's doorstep the shit landed on," Savannah quipped.


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N: Nemi Jade - glad you enjoyed the laugh, even though it was unintentional. That's what I get for being half British, half Native, and all Canadian; plenty of sass and sarcasm to go around._

**Chapter 8**

The DEA went after Sandoval with a vengeance but even that took time. The end result was that Savannah wound up spending a lot of time at the labs, always under someone's watchful eye. If she did go anywhere, it was with an armed escort, even to her counseling sessions and self-defense classes.

By the end of the week Savannah was ready to scream in frustration. She hated the feeling of constantly being watched and wished she could get away from it all but knowing it was necessary for her own safety. She wanted to help out at the lab, or at least do something useful, but she couldn't do much because she didn't have any training that was useful. So the end result was that she was bored out of her skull a lot. Things had gotten so bad she had started reading Horatio's science books as a way of passing the time. What had scared her was how much of it she actually understood.

Finally Fate kindly showed Her hand.

Savannah was sitting in the Observation Sector of the autopsy room and chatting with Alexx, who was on the floor, when the aids brought in a new body.

"Oh jeeze," Alexx said, lifting the sheet to see the face.

By now Savannah was so used to seeing dead bodies, or DB's, she didn't even flinch. In a fit of boredom one day, she had sat through several autopsies with Alexx. This one, though, had her raising an eyebrow. "What happened to him?" she asked.

"Looks like someone took a blunt object to his face," Alexx replied.

"Huh. Ouch," Savannah said, watching as Alexx gently probed the victim's face.

"Going to be a bugger to identify him. Feels like half a dozen bones in his face are broken," Alexx commented.

"Glad I don't have to do that," Savannah said, studying the video image of the victim. The more she studied, the more she began to wonder if maybe, just maybe, she could put his face back together. She would need to see an x-ray of the skull for reference points, but it would be an interesting challenge. "Hey, Alexx?"

"Yeah, sugar?"

"I know you probably will anyway but would you mind doing an x-ray of his face after you clean it up?"

"Sure. What do you have in mind?"

"I don't know but I think, I _think_ I can put this guy's face back together. It would be an interesting challenge for me," Savannah said.

"That's quite a challenge but you're welcome to try, by all means. It might make it easier to identify him if prints and DNA come up empty," Alexx said, smiling.

Once Savannah had the x-ray and Alexx had cleaned the blood off the victim's face, she set to work with charcoal and pastel. Alexx didn't hear a peep out of her for the next half an hour, except when she asked two questions.

"Are those eyeglass dents on the bridge of his nose that I'm seeing?" Savannah asked.

Alexx took a closer look. "You're right, sugar. This fellow wore glasses and had been for some time."

"What color are his eyes?" Savannah asked a little while later.

"See for yourself," Alexx said, opening one eye.

Savannah studied the image on her screen and said, "I'd call it at…. mmm… dark green."

"Good call."

A short while later, Horatio appeared. "What do we have, Alexx?" he asked, standing beside the M.E. and studying the victim on the table.

"Blunt force trauma to the face and head," Alexx said. "Practically every bone in his face is either broken or fractured. Even his jaw has been broken at least three times. Somebody used this man for a punching bag."

"Suggesting a lot of rage," Horatio said.

"And no hands, meaning no prints," Alexx said, lifting one of the victim's arms, which was missing a hand at the wrist point. "Lack of blood in the area says they were cut off after death."

"And unless his DNA is in the system, identifying him is going to be very difficult," Horatio said. "Which is what someone may have wanted."

"Well, what someone may have wanted they ain't gonna get," came Savannah's voice. She flashed them her drawing pad and said, "You might actually have some luck with this."

"Don't tell me you managed to reconstruct his face," Alexx said, grinning.

"Okay, I won't," Savannah sassed back.

Horatio chuckled and said, "Bring it down and lets have a look." Savannah did as bid and when he and Alexx saw the drawing, both were very impressed.

"You got this just from the x-ray and seeing his current state of face?" Alexx asked incredulously. Savannah nodded. "Sugar, this is damn good," she praised, giving the girl a hug, causing her to blush.

"She's right; this is good, very good in fact, and will help a lot," Horatio said. "What I will do is have a copy of this sent to Frank, who is investigating the case and see what turns up. In the mean time, I have a challenge for you. How would you like to do another facial reconstruction of another victim, this one a floater?"

Savannah's face lit up at the prospect. She had found out, when doing the sketch, that she liked the challenge a lot. "I'll need the autopsy photos and the x-ray of the skull," she said.

"You shall have them," Horatio replied.

Horatio not only gave Savannah the floater, he also gave her two more cases, complete with x-rays and autopsy photos. What he didn't tell her was that all three had been formally identified and he would be comparing her drawings to the actual photographs of the victims. And, as a bonus challenge, the third case was nothing more than a skull that had been found several years ago. The victim had been identified but the challenge for Savannah was to try and recreate the face with only the skull for hints about coloring and facial shape.

Four hours later, Savannah handed Horatio the files. Then she went, with an escort, to get something to eat. Meanwhile, Horatio took the drawings to the Layout Room. With Ryan, Eric, Natalia, Calleigh, and Alexx watching, Horatio put the pre-death photographs of the victims up and, one by one, put the drawings beside them.

"Why isn't this girl working with us as a forensic artist?" Alexx demanded, comparing the drawings to the photos.

In all three cases, Savannah had been dead on. With the exception of the skull case, the other two drawings were in color and matched the faces in the photographs. The skull case had been done in charcoal but it was very, very close to the actual photograph of the victim.

"Alexx is right, H. We really could benefit from having Savannah's talent with the lab," Eric said, also clearly impressed.

"Horatio!" came Frank's excited voice as he barreled into the room, waving a file. "We got a hit on the beating victim."

Horatio opened the file studied the contents, a growing smile on his face. He placed the photograph up with the other photographs then he placed Savannah's drawing next to it. Savannah had been dead-on again, right down to the fact that the victim had worn glasses.

"That girl is _good_," Frank said, very clearly impressed.

"Do we have any room on the budget to hire her?" Ryan asked.

"But what would the department heads say?" Calleigh wondered.

"Let's find out," Horatio said.


	9. Chapter 9

_A/N: I had to resubmit this chapter due to having to do some minor editing. Nothing serious, just realizing I made a few mistakes when I wrote it the first time. Hopefully it's a bit better now._

**Chapter 9**

Through the MDPD and in collaboration with Horatio, Savannah had been made the youngest forensic artist ever working with the lab. That was three weeks ago and while she enjoyed her work and was glad to be able to contribute, she was reaching her breaking point.

Sandoval had finally been nabbed but he had lawyered up and his lawyer, a major slime ball, was making things very difficult for the Assistant D.A., a fellow by the name of Collin Prechel. The DEA was concerned about removing Savannah from protective custody until they were sure Sandoval was going to be doing some jail time instead of getting out on bail. It was understandable as he'd already tried to have Savannah killed once and there was no guarantee he would try again the minute she was out of sight of a protective cop. Both Sandoval's lawyer, with his veiled insulting insults, and the constant protective custody, was beginning to wear on Savannah. She couldn't even go back to her job at Seaside Café because it was deemed too big a risk by the DEA and Prechel, who wanted to keep her alive long enough to testify against Sandoval, though she wasn't sure what good testifying against him would do. Prechel had not bothered to clarify that to her, leaving her feeling very confused and uncertain as to what, exactly, the man wanted from her.

Then, about a week ago, Savannah heard from her friend, Lucy, in Alabama. It was Lucy who had helped Savannah dye and cut her hair and escape to Phoenix City all those months ago. Once Savannah had arrived safely in Miami, she'd gotten in touch with Lucy via e-mail and the girls had remained in touch, calling each other e-pens, or electronic pen pals. Now Lucy was telling her that Andrew was hunting for her and not in a good way. Savannah had heard about what happened to Andrew's last girlfriend and she was terrified of winding up the same way. She had not told Horatio this, figuring he already had enough to worry about without a dangerous ex-boyfriend trying to find her. Unfortunately that didn't stop her stress levels from soaring through the proverbial roof.

The end result was that Savannah wasn't sleeping and eating well. She'd begun having nightmares that caused her to wake up sweating and shaking and not sleeping much after that. She'd tried telling her counselor about the dreams but had been given the "You're under a lot of stress" speech and how "everything will work out in time." That was when she'd given up trying. She didn't even tell Horatio about the dreams for the same reason she wasn't telling him about Andrew; she didn't want him to worry any more than he already was.

The desire to escape grew and grew until it was almost an obsession with her. She began to watch her guards carefully, noting any escape routes she could use, any way she could quietly vanish and not be noticed for a few hours. Then she began to figure out where she would go. The 'where' question was pretty simple to answer; she wanted to go to the beach. The 'how' question was a different subject but if there was one thing she was, it was patient.

Calleigh had helped her get her weapons license and now she carried a Glock 30, a compact .45 caliber auto pistol that was similar to a Glock 21 in terms of power and caliber size but more compact than a Glock 21. It weighed almost two pounds fully loaded and she still wasn't used to wearing it but preferred it to the Glock 21 because of its size, weight, and how it felt in her hands when she was firing it. Oddly enough, Horatio was pretty obsessive about her keeping it clean and it wasn't until she was griping to Calleigh about it one day that she found out the reason; a certain now-deceased CSI by the name of Timothy 'Speed' Speedle. He had failed to keep his weapon clean and when he'd needed it the most, it'd failed him and he'd paid the ultimate price; his life. To make matters worse, Horatio had tried to get him to clean his gun more often, especially after an incident called Disposo Day, and when Tim had died, it had been right in front of Horatio, something that still haunted him. That was when Savannah had quit griping and cleaned her weapon about twice a week and every time she finished target practice, even going as far as getting Calleigh and Ryan, who was a bit obsessive-compulsive about cleaning his weapon, to make sure she was doing the cleaning the right way. The end result was her becoming friends with Ryan since they spent so much time cleaning their weapons.

All in all, it was only Alexx who had any inclination of what was going on with Savannah and that was only because, with Savannah, it felt like Alexx was one of the few people who wasn't patronizing her or worrying themselves sick over her.

Finally Savannah's chance came. Her escort had taken her to her counseling session and she's sat through, in her opinion, another wasted session with Tina. She gave the appropriate pat responses about work and didn't talk about her nightmares when asked about them except to say that they were not happening; that was a flat-out lie as they still were even though she'd tried every de-stressing trick she knew, including drinking chamomile tea before bed. When the session was over, she excused herself to go to the washroom, which was down a hall and just out of sight of her escort, who was sitting in the waiting room, reading a magazine and looking bored out of her skull. From her purse, Savannah removed a pair of dark aviator sunglasses, a baseball hat that had a dark brown wig of sorts attached under the edge of the hat; thank god her hair was still short enough she could pull that off; and a large, plain dark blue windbreaker that hid her Glock and changed her body-shape. Then she removed her skirt and slip-ons and replaced it with a pair of scruffy jeans and Sketcher running shoes. All this went into a nylon backpack that had been in her artist bag. Savannah went from looking like a professional young lady to a high school kid with long dark brown hair in minutes. Her heart pounding, she stepped out into the hall way and calmly walked right past the escort, who didn't even glance up at her, save her shoes. Then Savannah was out of the building and that was when she caught the first bus that came her way. It took about twenty minutes to get to the beach but that was fine; she was at the beach and away from everything.

It was a big risk, she knew, and she was sure she'd catch hell from Prechel, the DEA, and Horatio but she was tired of caring, tired of watching over her shoulder, tired of everything.

She bought an ice cream cone from a nearby seller, paying with cash and went over to the beach. She wandered for a while, not really caring where she was going, just wanting to forget everything. After a while, she found a quiet little spot against a break wall and sat down to watch the waves and the clouds and birds, leaning against the wall. She wasn't sure how long she sat there, lost in her own thoughts, but according to the watch Horatio had given her a few weeks ago after the whole business with Sandoval started, it had been almost four hours since she'd bolted from her counseling session and her escort.

Sand crunched under someone's foot, indicating someone was approaching her. She calmly reached for her gun, which was tucked in its spot at her waist, removed the safety strap, set the safety switch on the gun, and pulled back the hammer. The entire time she'd been sitting there, her hand had been resting on the butt of gun under her windbreaker so the movement had been almost invisible. Now she carefully pulled it out and laid it across her stomach under the windbreaker, looking like she'd simply shifted herself to a more comfortable position with one leg raised and the other on the ground.

"Savannah," came Horatio's voice.

She sighed heavily. Oh well, she got four hours of freedom out of it. Time to pay the piper.

"Horatio. How did you find me?" she asked, not looking at him, determined to enjoy her view as long as she could.

"Your watch," he said, looking down at her, hands on his hips.

"My watch?" she asked.

"It has a GPS locator in it, an idea I got from Yelina after Ray pulled a vanishing act on her one day," he replied.

"Figures. What took you so long?" she asked, scowling. Great, there was even an eye in the sky watching her.

"It took that long for your escort to realize you'd vanished and to locate you. She tried to find you the hard way and finally told me. You're about half an hour away from the lab and I was out in the Glades at the time," he said, sitting down beside her. He heard a click and saw something move under Savannah's windbreaker. When she shifted, he realized she'd had her gun out and ready to fire the whole time he'd been standing there, possibly longer. He had to give her credit for being prepared that time. "Savannah, you had a great deal of us worried about you."

"Oh whoop-ti-do, Horatio. Let me guess, Prechel was afraid he'd loose his precious testimony, except he won't tell me what the hell I'm supposed to testify to!" she said sarcastically.

"That's not fair-" he began but she cut in rudely.

"He's not being fair! He just treats me like some goddamn country bumpkin who doesn't know diddlysquat and pats me on the head when I try and find out what's going on! I nearly bit his hand off the last time he did that to me!" she said angrily, feeling her rage and frustration building up.

"These things take time-" he began.

"_I know that! _How often do you think I get told that? Every single goddamn time I try and find out what's going on! I am sick of being watched over! I can't even see Maria or Antonio or even go to the beach without someone watching over me, just in case Sandoval tries to go after me again! Hell, I'm starting to wonder if you guys want a camera in the bathroom when I try and have a quiet bath or shower!"

"Savannah-" Horatio tried again but she cut in again.

"I came to Miami to start over, Horatio, _to start over!_ And now, thanks to a certain druggie, I'm feeling like a frakin' prisoner! I thought it was the bad guys who paid for the crime, not those trying to do the right thing! Well I'm payin' and I'm sick of it! Hell, things gotten so bad I can't even talk to Tina about my bloody nightmares because she thinks I'm just under a lot of stress and I get the pat on the head again! That lady doesn't even _know_ the _meaning_ of _stress_! Oh, and just to really top things off, I find out from Lucy that _Andrew is frackin' looking for me!_ And _that _is _not _a_ good thing!_"

"You've been having nightmares? And Andrew is looking for you?" Horatio asked, concerned, beginning to realize just how much Savannah hadn't told him.

"You bet your sweet lil' biscuits he is! I know what happened to his last girlfriend and if you think I want to wind up dead like her, you better think again!"

"And you will if Sandoval catches you alone," he said, trying to drive his point home but sensing that Savannah had a lot of anger and frustration built up and she desperately needed to release it.

"_I don't care! I don't frackin' care anymore! I'm tired of caring, tired of trying to do the right thing! I've got Sandoval after me, I've got Andrew after me, I've got that sleaze-ball thing Sandoval calls a lawyer making veiled threats and insults at me, I've got an Assistant D.A. treating me like a goddamn child, I'm constantly being watched like a bloody hawk, I've Had Enough! Enough! No more! And everyone can go stuff themselves where the sun don't goddamn well shine!_" she yelled. She stared at him, breathing hard and finally, finally, the tears came. They were big, gulping sobs and somehow she found herself being held tightly by Horatio. He rocked her gently and let her cry. After a long moment her crying eased off and he reached in to one pocket for a hanky. Much the way a father would a child, he gently cleaned her face and smiled when she hick-upped. "I'm so sorry," she said tiredly, snuggling against him.

"Don't be sorry. I'm surprised you didn't do this sooner," he said soothingly.

"I just–I just wanted to get away from everything and go to the one place I ever really felt at peace, which is the beach."

"Can't say I blame you. You've been under a lot of stress and while this wasn't advisable, it was understandable. There's a little spot on the roof of the crime lab that I go to sometimes when I want a bit of time to myself," he confessed. "I can stay hidden there until my cell goes off again."

"I suppose I should apologize to my escort for taking off like that," she said timidly.

"I wouldn't bother, considering I ripped into her for her attitude towards you and the fact that she only paid attention to your shoes and not you when you went by her," he said gently. That was the truth; the officer's attitude when she'd found out Savannah had taken off had been one of disgust and made several comments about spoilt young women who had no respect for others. Unfortunately, Eric had been within earshot of her when she'd said that and he'd passed that information on to Horatio, who had not been too happy about what he was told. He had promptly given the officer a very cold dressing down about treating others as she would be treated and if that was her attitude towards civilians then maybe she should seriously consider another line of work.

"That was how I got by her, knowing she was only looking at my shoes and not at my face," she admitted. "Plus the wig helped as well."

"Where did you find that?" he asked, impressed when she took off her hat and showed him.

"Maria. She knew someone who knew someone and it went from there. It started out as a joke about me getting a hat and a wig and just taking off for a while. Next thing you know…"

Horatio nodded. "Tell you what, Savannah. I will talk to Prechel and find out _exactly_ what is going on and strongly suggest that he and Sandoval's lawyer quit playing games. I will also see what I can do about Andrew, okay?" She nodded reluctantly. "And, if you have any more nightmares, I want you to tell me about them, even if they happen at three a.m. in the morning. I am not an expert on dreams but I've had my fair share of nightmares." She nodded again. "Okay. In the mean time, are you hungry?"

"A bit," she said.

"How does Marabelle's sound?"

"What about an escort?"

"No escort, just you and me," he said, watching as her face lit up. She nodded eagerly and quickly tucked her hat back on. They stood up together and Horatio put a fatherly arm around her shoulders. "That, however, does not mean you are not grounded, young lady."

She groaned. "I knew it."

He smiled. "Your punishment will be to be escorted by either Eric, Calleigh, Ryan, Natalia, Alexx, or myself for the next several days."

"And if you have to go to a crime scene?" she asked, puzzled as they walked towards the Hummer.

"Then I guess you're coming with us, aren't you? And don't count on sitting around doing nothing; you will be helping," he said, smiling as her face lit up at the prospect.

"If that's your idea of being grounded, I'd hate to see what your idea of murder is," she groused good-naturedly, causing him to laugh.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

As Horatio had promised, he and Agent Hickoc paid a very in-your-face visit to Prechel to find out exactly what was going on with the Sandoval case. The end result was the two men paying a visit to Prechel's boss, Harisford, the local D.A. and having Prechel removed from the Sandoval case on charges of unnecessarily endangering a witness.

It turned out what was going on was Prechel had been playing a very dangerous game with Sandoval's lawyer, Kuber, at Savannah's expense. The man had been making Savannah out to be his star witness when, in fact, she had nothing of value to contribute to the case, thus putting her life in unnecessary jeopardy.

Harisford had taken immediate action upon hearing this. He had called Prechel in to account for his actions and had given the man a very serious dressing down, going as far as to put him on notice. He had also removed him from the Sandoval case and re-assigned it to an Assistant Harisford knew to be Prechel's unspoken rival. Then he had personally apologized to Savannah, who had graciously accepted the apology with a dignity and grace that had made Horatio proud of her.

Next, he spoke to Sheriff Donaling and inquired about Andrew. Upon learning that Andrew was looking for Savannah, Donaling promised to do what he could to put a stop to the search. He did suggest that Savannah have her name and Social Insurance Number changed to protect herself further, which would also make things more difficult for Andrew. Horatio promised to pass the suggestion on.

Meanwhile, Savannah was thoroughly enjoying her "grounding." She had worked several crime scenes with Horatio, Calleigh, and Natalia, and once assisted Alexx with an autopsy. To her surprise she found she had a natural aptitude for forensic science. With the money that was coming in from her commissioned artwork, and Natalia and Alexx's suggestions, she began to seriously consider taking a course in Criminology on-line, leaning heavily towards the sciences, maybe even getting a Bachelor of Science, like Horatio.

And speaking of Horatio, their relationship was steadily getting better. They were talking more and it was getting to the point that Savannah found herself preferring to talk to Horatio rather than Tina. After her out-burst on the beach they had talked some more at the restaurant and, after a little coaxing from Horatio, Savannah had told him about her nightmares. He hadn't tried to analyze them but had asked her what she thought the nightmares meant. That had gotten her thinking. She realized she felt like she had no control over the events in her life and understood that she had to take that control back or Andrew and Sandoval were going to win.

Savannah took the first step to regaining that control when she faced down Sandoval.

A few days after her talk with Horatio, Sandoval and Savannah passed each other at the MDPD. Sandoval had tried to silently intimidate her again, by glaring at her in a dark, ugly way that seemed to promise silent retribution if he ever got his hands on her.

Frank, who had been nearby, would later mention the incident to Horatio.

"What did Savannah do?" Horatio asked upon hearing about the confrontation.

"What she did was pull your favorite trick," Frank replied.

"My favorite trick?"

"Yeah. She pushed back her blazer enough to reveal her gun, put one hand on her hip and the other hand on her gun and started 'casually' tapping it. She even deliberately removed the safety strap!" Frank said. "I had to do a double-take because how many times have I seen you do the exact same thing?"

"Oh! That's his classic Wanna-Play-Catch-The-Bullet-Stance," Calleigh chirped cheerfully, coming over to join them.

"Is that what that's called?" Horatio asked, grinning.

"That's what we call it but the junior cops call it the Caine Stance, which is what you do when you're starting to get hostile or want to appear intimidating. Scares the heck out of the rookies," Calleigh replied easily.

Both Horatio and Frank chuckled.

"Just to top it all off, Savannah also gave Sandoval a stare that could have rivaled you for iciness," Frank said to Horatio. "I swear it felt like the room temp dropped by several degrees. If I didn't know better, I'd swear she was your kid."

"Now that's a frightening concept," Calleigh quipped, causing both men to chuckle again.

"What did Sandoval do?" Horatio asked.

"Dumbass backed down in one heck of a hurry," Frank said, grinning broadly.

"That's my girl," Horatio said, smiling.

Unbeknownst to Frank, his "daughter" crack would spark an idea in Horatio, an idea that would get fuel added to it forty-eight hours later.

Evening was falling and it was promising to be a nice night. Savannah was crossing the parking lot to enter the Crime Lab where she was meeting Horatio for dinner. She was still feeling pretty pleased about having faced Sandoval yesterday. Today had been her day off and she'd enjoyed herself, especially now that she was escort-free. She was lost in thought when she heard someone call to her. It was Sandoval's sleeze-ball lawyer, Darryl Kuber, and he was headed straight for her. To make matters worse, the parking lot was devoid of people. She kept walking.

"What do you want, Kuber?" she called back, wishing she had her Glock but since it had been her day off, she hadn't taken it with her.

"To talk," he replied, catching up to her.

"Got nothing to say to you," she replied, not changing her pace but adjusting her bag. All her self-defense training started coming to her.

"Well I've got plenty to say to you, madam," Kuber snapped.

"So say it and leave. I'm busy," she shot back.

"Where do you get off playing games with my client? I should sue you for perjury," he snapped, trying to get in her face.

She tipped her sunglasses down to the bridge of her nose and looked over them at Kuber, a trick she'd seen Horatio pull numerous times. It also hid the fact that her heart was starting to pound with fear and nervousness. "Games? That's a new one," she said, trying to hide her emotions. "Look, I really don't give a damn about your client. He fracked things up by dealing drugs and trying to have me killed, not to mention seriously injuring two other people. His mess is his own goddamn fault. I had nothing to do with it."

"That's not the story I'm hearing," Kuber snapped, really not liking this country bumpkin's attitude towards him.

"Then you need to get your hearing checked. Sandoval is going down and I had nothing to do with it and if you value your precious lawyer license, you'll leave me alone," Savannah shot back. She moved around him to continue making her way to the Lab.

"Listen, you little –" Kuber began.

Frank was crossing the Crime Lab parking lot from a different direction when he saw Kuber confront Savannah. Both curious and concerned, he used the parked cars for cover to get closer to the pair, his cop radar up. He was close enough in time to hear Savannah tell Kuber to get his hearing checked.

_Atta girl,_ Frank thought. Then he froze when Kuber suddenly grabbed Savannah. He was about to interfere when, to his amazement and private amusement, Savannah neatly clocked Kuber with a vicious punch that laid the man out flat and out cold. As she stood there, shaking her now-sore hand and glaring at her tormentor, Frank made his presence known.

"Well, I was going to be a good Texas gentleman and offer to help you but it looks like you don't need my help after all," he said, coming over to her.

"How much did you see?" she asked.

"Enough. Let's go put some ice on that hand of yours or Horatio will get concerned and Alexx will fuss," he said, putting an arm around her shoulders.

"What about him?" she asked, jerking her head towards a still-prone Kuber.

"What about him?" Frank asked, shrugging.

Savannah thought about that for a moment and then said, "Good point. I think the break room has an ice pack in the fridge. Ryan had to use it once when he accidentally got hit by Natalia."

"How did that happen?" he asked, grinning. It would explain the bruise on Ryan's mouth that he'd acquired about a week ago.

"She was yanking on something at a crime scene that was stuck pretty good and Ryan went to help her. Unfortunately he happened to be standing right behind her when the object abruptly let go and Natalia's fist went flying. Guess what it hit?" Savannah asked, grinning at the memory. Frank chuckled. "By the way," she said as they walked inside the building, her voice going conspiringly low. "Don't tell anyone, but I really enjoyed hitting Kuber. I've been wanting to do that for a while."

Frank grinned and mimed doing a zipper across his mouth, causing Savannah to laugh.


	11. Chapter 11

_A/N: once again, thanks to all who read and reviewed this. There will be one more final chapter after this and then I am going to temporarily retire Savannah to focus more on my other stories. However, rest assured, she will be back. In the mean time, as always, enjoy and review._

**Chapter 11**

"_I want her charged with assault!_" a male voice yelled from the direction of Reception.

"Wonder who pissed off who this time," Savannah said absently to Eric. They were in the Layout Room where Savannah was assisting Eric with a minor case. Both were decked out in lab coats and gloves and she was helping him put together a broken window from a robbery to try and see if they could find any prints on it.

"Dunno, but he sounds pretty mad," Eric said just as absently. "How's the hand?"

"Still a bit sore. How'd you find out about that?"

He chuckled. "Grapevine. Word is you hit someone but nobody knows who."

"If I say it was deserved and it was in self-defense, will you believe me?"

"Without a doubt."

"Good. Guy had a big mouth and a glass jaw. Idiot shouldn't have grabbed me."

"Ouch."

Over the last several months, Eric and Savannah had come to regard each other as friends and had an uncle-brother-niece-sister-type relationship going. They teased and ragged each other mercilessly but they also looked out for each other. It was known that Eric was very protective of Savannah, much like that of an older brother, and had once gone after a mouthy young beat cop when the fellow had made the stupid mistake of making a few rather crude comments about Savannah's reasonably-generous bustline within earshot of him. That had been the last time that particular cop had dared to open his mouth about Savannah around Eric.

"_That little bitch hit me without provocation!_" the man yelled again.

"My, my, such a foul mouth have we," Savannah said idly, fitting another piece of the glass puzzle together. Eric chuckled.

Just then, Sergeant Rick Stetler stuck his head in the room. "Savannah, I need a word with you, please."

"I'm right here and a tad busy right now. What can I do for you?" she asked pleasantly to the IAB officer. After his little 'cradle-robbing' crack to Horatio the first time they'd met, and Savannah's subsequent shot back, they had kept an arms-length relationship with each other.

"I'd rather speak to you in private," Rick said.

"And I'd rather you spoke to me in front of Eric," she replied, not looking up from her work, fitting another piece of the glass puzzle together with a section Eric had already put together. The puzzle was about two-thirds done and a possible print was starting to show up.

"Fine," Rick said shortly, stepping further in to the room. "Darryl Kuber is accusing you of assault. He claims you hit him yesterday. What do you have to say about that?"

"Thought I recognized the mouth," Savannah quipped. Eric grinned. "Tell you what; let's go talk to Kuber like the rational adults we claim to be." She took off her gloves and lab coat and put her blazer back on while saying to Eric, "Be a dear and give a certain somebody a call, will you? I'm sure he'd be very interested in this."

Eric nodded and opened his cell while Savannah followed Rick out of the room, taking out her own cell and punching a number. "Frank, Kuber's in Reception, screaming about assault in regards to yesterday," she said. Frank said something and she replied, "Thank you." Snapping her cell shut, she smiled the smile of a predator on the hunt.

"There she is!" Kuber yelled, pointing his finger at her. He was now sporting a very nasty bruise on his jaw and looked livid with anger.

"Darryl Kuber! So nice of you to drop by!" Savannah chirped cheerfully, clapping her hands in glee and doing a little bunny hop.

"I want her charged with assault! She hit me and it was unprovoked!" Kuber yelled.

Savannah stuck one finger in her ear and wiggled it. "He gets any louder and I'm going to go deaf," she said absently. Nearby, someone snickered. Kuber just glared at her.

A lab technician tapped her on the shoulder and she turned her head to see him offering her a file, which she accepted with a smile for him. Opening it, she glanced at the contents and her smile became one of satisfaction. Then she handed the file to Rick and said, "Gotta love the UV filter on a camera; they simply show the most _amazing_ things."

Rick groaned. The photographs in the file showed Savannah's upper left arm under a UV filter and that arm sported a set of bruises suggesting she'd been grabbed recently, as indicated by the time and date stamp on the photographs.

"Those were taken less than ten minutes after our little 'run-in' in the parking lot," Savannah said, her voice growing cold. She pushed her blazer back and placed her hands on her hips, leveling her chin at her tormentor, one finger absently tapping the butt of her gun.

"Not only that, but it seems that there was a witness to that little encounter," said Horatio as he joined her and studied the file Rick handed him before placing the file on the Receptionist desk. He then assumed the side-ways version of Savannah's hands-on-hip stance, standing next to her and looking at Kuber with an equally cold look to his eyes.

"A witness?" Kuber scoffed.

"_Yeah, me,_" came Frank's voice as he joined them from the elevators and took up position on the other side of the group so Kuber was now completely surrounded. "You threatened to sue her for perjury against your client and she advised you to get your hearing checked because she had nothing to do with your client other than nearly getting shot by a hit contract he put out on her, as you should have been told by Prechel. Oh, I forgot, he got taken off that case recently, didn't he?" the detective said sarcastically. "You really should keep up-to-date on your cases, might save you a whole lotta hassle."

"You started this by grabbing me in the parking lot, Kuber. I finished it then and I'm finishing it now," Savannah said coldly. "Don't come near me again or you will find yourself with a restraining order slapped against you so fast the ink will still be wet when you get it _and_ I will make it known amongst the bar association _exactly_ what kind of lawyer you are. And if you don't think I won't do it," she leaned in close to him, "_think again,_" she hissed. Spacing her words with icy emphasis, she hissed, "_I am not afraid of you._"

"Start walking, Darryl, and don't look back," Horatio advised coldly.

"And if I do?" Kuber tried to bluff.

Frank, who, unbeknownst to Savannah, had been joined by Eric, Ryan, Natalia, Calleigh, and several other officers and lab technicians, all of whom knew Savannah and Horatio and respected the pair of them. The looks in their eyes were all cold and deadly, as was their body posture. Frank said calmly, "We'll be right here."

Kuber wisely decided it would be a good idea if he left the premises, having pushed his luck as far as he dared. Scowling, he left the crime lab in a huff.

Smiling to herself, Savannah said to Eric, "Now, where were we? Oh, right, the glass window. Shall we finish that?"

"Right this way," Eric said, grinning as the crowd dispersed.

"Are you _sure_ she's not your daughter?" Ryan quietly asked Horatio.

Horatio smiled. "Fairly certain."

"In that case, maybe you should adopt her 'cause her mannerism are beginning to be way too much like yours," Maxine Valera said. "I thought I was seeing double for a moment there."

"I'm seriously starting to consider the idea," Horatio said.

Later, Natalia showed Calleigh an image on a digital camera. It was a shot of Savannah and Horatio facing off Kuber together. The image had been taken moments before the rest of the group had joined them and showed the pair of them in their almost identical stances, facing Kuber, with Horatio turned to one side. Both had their hands on their hips and near their weapons, blazers pushed back to show gun and identification badges, and chins leveled. Neither had seen Natalia take the picture, all their focus on Kuber. It was a classic father-daughter picture and Calleigh loved it the moment she saw it. She asked for a copy of the photograph and convinced Natalia to show it to Alexx, who, in turn, convinced her to send a copy of it to Horatio, making sure she had a copy as well.

When Horatio found the photograph on his desk, in an eight-by-ten print with no note attached, he studied it thoughtfully. Then he picked up the phone to make a phone call to a certain judge who owed him a minor favor.

Later that day Horatio caught up to Savannah. She was sitting outside on one of the benches, enjoying the sunshine while she grabbed a quick bite to each.

"How are you feeling?" he asked as he sat beside her.

"I'm good, especially after that business with Kuber. You?" she asked.

"Same old, same old," he said. "Ryan made a funny comment to me."

"Ryan always makes funny comments," she quipped. "What'd he say this time?"

"He asked me if I was sure you weren't my daughter. Frank said the same thing to me after you faced off with Sandoval."

Savannah chuckled. "Yeah, Natalia asked me the same thing after a teenage suspect got a tad too mouthy with her while he was being escorted by a cop and I put him in his place."

Horatio chuckled and showed her the photograph of them. "I found this on my desk and it looks like it was taken during our little confrontation with Kuber. I don't know who left it or who took it."

Savannah studied the picture and said, "Wow, that's a good shot. No wonder why people keep asking you if we're father-daughter." She felt a familiar longing in her chest, silently wishing what the picture suggested was real, and that she really was his daughter.

"What if… what if I was to suggest that we do exactly that?" he asked carefully, taking off his sunglasses and fiddling with them. "What if I was to legally claim you as my daughter? One of the benefits is you would automatically get the protection and unspoken status that comes from being the daughter and the niece of a cop."

"We're talking about Eric, right?" Savannah asked, her interest piqued by the concept.

"Yes. Eric is my brother-in-law which would make him your uncle," he said.

He had talked to Savannah about Marisol, who was his deceased wife and Eric's sister, who had been murdered by a Mala Noche gang member by the name of Antonio Riaz. Eric had mentioned Marisol as well, and what the two men hadn't told her, Calleigh and Alexx had filled her in on as much as they could. Savannah knew Eric and Horatio still grieved for the woman they had both loved but both were trying hard to accept and move on. She also knew something had happened in Brazil in regards to Riaz but had wisely decided there were some things best left alone. Riaz had been brought to justice and that was enough for her.

"So, if you were to adopt me, that would make him legally my uncle, right?" she asked.

He nodded.

"But Horatio, why would you want to adopt me?" she asked, still trying to figure out what was going on and not daring to hope that another one of her dreams was coming true.

"Because, Savannah, because I love you like a daughter and I would be proud to claim you as my daughter," he said simply.

Before going to talk to her about this, Horatio had talked to Alexx about how to best handle this and she'd told him to keep it simple; tell her the truth. The M.E. had become a surrogate mother and aunt to the girl and knew for a fact that Savannah was coming to regard him as the father she'd always wanted. Savannah had once admitted to Alexx that she sometimes wished she could call Horatio her dad rather than her roommate and supervisor because that was what their relationship felt like most times.

Savannah now stared at Horatio in shock. "Are-are you sure?" she asked hesitantly, not quite believing it.

"Savannah, you might not be the daughter of my blood, but you are rapidly becoming the daughter of my heart." It was a phrase he'd once overheard a parent detective use when he'd been talking about his adopted teenage son and the phrase had stuck with him.

"How fast can the adoption be done?" she asked carefully.

"Judge Ojeda has agreed to sign the papers the moment they come across his desk," he said.

Judge Javier Ojeda had been widowed some years ago and, being too busy to properly court women, had involved with a prostitute who had died of smoke inhalation due to a fire at a club she'd been at earlier, a fire that had been later discovered to have deliberately set. Horatio, Frank, and Alexx had managed to keep the case quiet and, in return, Judge Ojeda had told Horatio if he ever needed a minor favor to let him know. He had been the judge Horatio had called earlier that day.

"Could I change my last name to yours?" she asked.

"If that's what you wanted, then yes, you can have your name changed."

Savannah nodded thoughtfully, starting to grin. "Yeah, _Savannah Mae Caine_ sounds a lot better than _Savannah Mae Abott_."

"Oh I quite agree," he said, also starting to smile.

"In that case, yes!" she yelped, flinging her arms around him, causing him to laugh as he caught her. "Oh no," she said as a sudden thought came to her. "If you're my dad, then Eric is going to be my uncle and you know how protective of me he already is."

"True."

Then her face lit up. "That just means I get to really rag him and as his niece I can get away with it more 'cause I'll have his sisters to help me."

Horatio laughed. Then he said, "I didn't know your middle name was Mae."

She scowled. "That came from one of my dad's aunts. I never really cared for it so I don't use it unless I have to."

"Well, while you're changing your last name, you can also have your middle name changed."

"I can, huh? Might as well go the whole nine yards while I'm at it," she said. "What was your mother's name?"

"Jacqueline," he said.

"Would you mind if I took her name as my middle name? For that matter, do you think she'd mind if I did?" she asked.

Horatio smiled as he felt his heart swell with pride. "No, I wouldn't mind at all and I think she would have been proud to give you her name. _Savannah Jacqueline Caine_ sounds like a very nice name."

"In that case, _Dad_, we need to pay a visit to the courthouse ASAP, hadn't we," she said, smiling at him.

"Indeed we do," he said, smiling back. "Indeed we do."


	12. Chapter 12

_A/N: well, it's been a fun ride but it's time to put this story to rest. Rest assured, Savannah will pop up again, as there is a bit of a clue in this chapter as to where that will be, but for now I'm going to concentrate on my other stories, as well as introduce another new one. Thanks to all who read and reviewed this and keep your eye open for more adventures in the future._

**Chapter 12**

_Banner Behavioral Health Hospital, Phoenix City, Alabama:_

A nurse bustled into Mary Abbot's room holding a letter with a Miami-Dade return address. "Hey Mrs. Abbot, you got a letter!" the nurse said cheerfully. Mary didn't respond but that was no surprise to the nurse. Mary had not spoken a word in almost five years and her doctors seriously doubted she ever would. Nothing and no one seemed to be able to reach the place she had mentally locked herself in to.

The nurse sat down beside Mary and pulled out a letter with tidy handwriting on the cream-colored sheets of stationary. She began to read out loud.

"_Dear Momma:_

_I know it's been some time since I last saw you but I wanted to let you know I'm doing okay._

_My decision to go to Florida and find Horatio Caine was one of the best decisions I've ever made. He, his friends, and his brother-in-law's family, the Delko's, have accepted me unconditionally and shown me so much love and friendship that I feel truly blessed._

_About a month ago, Dad adopted me and I officially became a Caine. In fact, my full name is now Savannah Jacqueline Caine. To top that off, I'm working on my four-year Bachelor of Science while serving as the youngest forensic artist to ever work with the MDPD and Crime Lab. When I'm not doing that, I'm doing commissioned artwork for people around the city. Pete and Andrew used to try and tell me that my artistic talent would never amount to anything. Guess they were wrong, weren't they? _

_Speaking of Pete, I heard from Sheriff Donaling recently. He said Pete had been killed in an accident involving alcohol. When I asked him why he was telling me about a man who wasn't my father, that Horatio Caine was my father, he went silent for a moment. Then he apologized for bothering me and wished me good-bye and good luck. I haven't heard from him since._

_You would really like Dad, Momma. He's more stubborn than Mr. Weckle's old horse, Prince, sharp with the mouth when he's mad, and has a mind that goes ninety miles an hour some days, but he's also patient, caring, and his heart is in the right place. He's also a wonderful father to me and I have absolutely no regrets getting on the plane and flying to Florida to find someone I'd only talked to on-line._

_I think Dad said there was a conference coming up in Las Vegas in the near future for CSIs and cops and he's invited me to go along with him. I think it would be a lot of fun and I'm really looking forward to it._

_I promise you, Momma, I'm going to be okay. I'm happier than I've ever been, I'm safe, and I'm with people who really care about me. Nobody's hit me like Andrew and Peter used to and Dad promises me nobody ever will again. And when Dad says, Dad means._

_In the mean time, Momma, take care and know that I love you._

_Love always,_

_Savannah Caine._"

Underneath, in a different, bolder handwriting and ink, the letter continued with a postscript.

"_Mary:_

_Although we have never met and there is a chance we probably never will, I wanted to let you know how proud I am of Savannah, our daughter. It took a lot of courage on her part to come to Miami to try and find someone she'd only met on-line and to try and start a new life somewhere else. It also took just as much courage for her to walk away from Peter and Andrew._

_The day Savannah legally became my daughter was one of the most special days of my life. She's smart, beautiful, artistically talented, a joy to be around, and I am very, very proud to call her my daughter. I'm certain you would be as well, for she has come along way since the day I first saw her in Reception at the Crime Lab._

_I promise you this, from one parent to another, I will do my best to protect and love her as much as any father can, and, as Savannah knows, when I make a promise, I do my damndest to keep it._

_Horatio Caine._"

The nurse looked inside the envelope and found a picture of Savannah next to a smiling man with red hair against a lovely backdrop of an ocean.

"She looks lovely, Mary, absolutely lovely and so happy," the nurse breathed. She placed the photo beside the bedside table, along with the letter and patted her patient on the shoulder before leaving to attend to other duties.

After along moment, something caught the light, and a single tear slowly made it's way down Mary's still face.

_Miami-Dade Police Department, Miami, Florida:_

In an interrogation room, a young teenage girl sat waiting. She bore the bruises of someone who had recently been viciously beaten and the scared look of someone who had recently been raped. The door opened and she looked up automatically. A woman with short blonde hair stepped in to the room, wearing a nice light wine-colored suit and stripped cream-colored shirt, a friendly smile, and carrying an artist bag.

"Are you Megan Biblos?" the woman asked gently, a southern accent in her voice. The girl nodded and the woman smiled warmly as she handed Megan a can of pop and put her bag down on the table. She pulled out a large drawing pad and a case of charcoals, arranged them neatly on the table and sat down next to the girl.

"I'm Savannah Caine, forensic artist for the MDPD, and I'm going to be working with you to help you try and recreate your attacker. Feel up to it?"

**The End, for now.**


End file.
